Vocalise
by WrittenSword
Summary: A/U - Miranda is a choral director with a painful past and Andy is a journalist who needs to learn how to believe in herself. This is an  Andy/Miranda story, if that offends you, please don't read.  COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Vocalise  
**_by WrittenSword_

**Summary:** A/U - Miranda is a choral director and Andy is a journalist who enjoys singing. Miranda has a painful past and Andy has to learn to believe in herself. Miranda is 47, Andy is 26 in this story.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own The Devil Wears Prada.

**A/N:** I am not a great singer and I've never sung in a choir, but I love choral music and listen to a lot of classical music that utilises vocalists. I'm writing this story from the perspective of a listener, and not the performer. I hope it all still comes across. ^_^ Oh and the title is taken from a piece of choral music written by Rachmaninov, a piece without actual lyrics. It's about vocalising the meaning through only the melody.

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**Prologue **

Her hands wrapped tightly around the large cardboard cup of coffee, the heat seeping soothingly into her chilled palms. She had chosen a solitary chair by the window, overlooking the busy New York street, from where she could watch how the windy November afternoon was chasing office workers down the sidewalk. They were on their way home to their families and loved ones, holding on to their hats and briefcases as the breeze picked up and whirled flocks of leaves around their ankles.

She took a large sip, welcoming the scalding hot liquid as it burned on her tongue and down her throat. It made her feel in control and calmed her nerves. A few minutes from now she was expected to step in front of a choir again, as a leader, as the centre of every one's attention. Giving a piece of herself in order to guide the beauty of music through a diverse ensemble of voices.

Was she really ready? No. She wasn't. Panic sprang from her stomach and a wave of nausea welled up from her abdomen and through her chest. Why had she agreed to this? Sure, Nigel was her friend and he was right that she needed to get her life back in order, but the prospect of going back to do the thing she loved so much before... well _before_, was very intimidating. She had no idea how she would deal with it. It had been nearly five years since her entire life had broken into pieces and left her a physical and emotional wreck. She took another sip from her latte, and closed her eyes. The images came rushing back, still haunting her after half a decade.

She had turned in early for the night when the doorbell had roused her from sleep. The blue flashing light had illuminated the hallway as she had padded down the stairs in her nightgown, the sound of the patrol radio reaching out to her with ice-cold tendrils of premonition. Before the officer at the doorstep had removed his hat she had already spotted the two familiar stuffed toys in his arms and the terror that had immediately clutched her heart, had thrown her into a deep chasm of dark and desperate oblivion.

Her chest constricted at the memory and she gulped down more of the hot beverage to quell her emotions. Everything had changed since then. Her life was different, and so was she.

Dusk, which had slowly descended on the city, superimposed her ghostly reflection over the busy afternoon bustle outside. She sighed as she took in her hair. Heartbreak had turned her strawberry blond locks a premature white and although she hated it, depicting her time of weakness, she refused to have it dyed. It would always act as a reminder of her loss and the brutal changes in her life.

Focusing on her reflection she tried to steel her resolve. She had been given a chance at a fresh start. Choral director of an amateur adult group in a community centre was not anything like the star quality she was used to in her past, however she saw it as the path to begin getting her life on track again. Not that she actually needed a job for the money, but she could no longer stay a hermit in her apartment, letting the world pass by as she wallowed in her depression.

She finished off the last bit of coffee and, with a deep sigh, grabbed her purse and got up from the chair. Pulling her charcoal fur coat tighter around her body, she squared her shoulders and stepped out into the early evening.

**Chapter One ****  
**  
Andy Sachs skipped down the steps of The New York Mirror onto the sidewalk, haphazardly wrapping the scarf around her neck and swinging her brown leather messenger bag across her shoulders. She had just finished writing and checking her final articles for the day and could now look forward to a pleasantly lazy weekend. Every Friday she met her friends at the community centre for a few choir sessions, only to then hit their favourite pizzeria and finish off with a few drunk karaoke sessions at their local bar. It was a well-deserved routine for a hardworking New York office slave such as herself.

Burrowing her hands deeply in the pockets of her jacket, she grinned and strode down the street with long, assertive steps. Life was good. She was twenty-six, had a secure job, fun friends and her own little apartment. The only thing missing, of course, was someone to share all that with.

Andy looked up at the darkening sky and wind-chased clouds. She sometimes felt lonely, but she had quickly found out that casual dating just wasn't her thing, and she had always felt that romance would need to come from a basis of friendship. So far cupid had missed his shots at her, and so she had made a deal with herself to simply see where life would lead, and not stress about it.

Still aiming her eyes at the heavens Andy collided with the person who had just stepped out of _Starbucks_.

"Can you not watch were you're going?" the blur of black and white softness hissed at her icily.

The journalist stepped back, apologetically bowing her head. "I'm really sorry, Ma'am!"

When she looked back up she met furious blue eyes. Apparently the 'Ma'am' had been a wrong choice of words. Despite the white locks gently framing her face, the woman couldn't be more than forty. Her pale skin was nearly flawless, showing only tiny lines where she now pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.

"I mean... I... I'm really sorry. I wasn't watching were I was going..."

"Obviously you weren't," and with that the white-haired lady turned on her high heels and walked off.

Andy stood and followed the black fur coat with her eyes until it had disappeared in the crowd. _Really! The nerve of some people,_ Andy thought as she straightened her jacket and resumed her short journey to choir practice. _It's not like I did it on purpose!_ Her happy weekend mood had certainly just suffered a dent.

She glumly crossed the street and entered the community centre building, spotting her friend Lily already waiting by the elevator.

"Hey girl!"

"Hi Lily!"

"What's got you all down? It's weekend! Time to par-tay!"

Andy ruffled her bangs and sighed. "Oh, nothing. Just New Yorkers still getting to me."

Her friend raised an eyebrow. "Andy, you've lived here for more than three years. You should be used to it by now."

"Yeah I know... I guess you can't ever fully drive the little Ohio-girl out of me, huh?"

They both chuckled and stepped into the elevator car. Lily pushed the button for their destination floor and then turned back to Andy.

"Oh, by the way, the boys found this new Japan-style karaoke bar where you can rent separate rooms. We'll try it out tonight, maybe it'll help with your stage fright. You won't have to get anxious about singing in front of all the harmless drunks then." She mocked her brunette friend.

"Ha-ha, you're very amusing, Lily," Andy stuck out her tongue. "But you're right, it might help. Less people to witness my failure," she said with another chuckle.

"Girl, you need to stop being so down on yourself." Lily wrapped an arm around Andy's shoulders and squeezed tightly. "You sing really well."

The elevator dinged open and they stepped into the hallway.

"Oh look who it is, _Dumb and dumber_," a skinny red-head spat at them with a profound English accent as she brushed by with her nose turned upward.

"Shut up Emily," Andy hissed at the young woman, who had become sort of her arch enemy over the past years, their mutual dislike for one another colouring their weekly interactions.

Lily pulled her friend back by the elbow. "Andy, just ignore her. Don't let her spoil your evening. Not. Worth. It."

Andy sighed, but then nodded. The rivalry between her and Emily was rather pointless and sucked too much energy from her, every single Friday. The red-head was the choir's main singer, a soprano, and a real teacher's pet. She'd always get the solo parts and always have a lot of say in the choice of songs they'd be rehearsing. For some reason, from day one, she had started to pick on Andy and although most people in the choir seemed to be annoyed by Emily, it still made the journalist feel uncomfortable. She loathed quarrels and confrontations and was especially bothered when others seemed to hate her for inexplicable reasons.

They continued down the hall and entered through the wooden double doors into the auditorium. About twenty people were already lounging in the first two rows of chairs and chatted with their pianist.

"Hey guys!" their friends Douglas and Nate waved from the first row. "Come here! Nigel has some news about Judith."

Andy frowned. Judith, their choral director and conductor, was a friendly old lady in her seventies, who had been leading choirs for most of her life.

"What's up?" Lily asked while tossing her bag on the stage and jumping up to sit next to it.

Nigel scratched his bald head and sighed. "Well, Judith was kind of... fired last week."

"WHAT?"

Everyone tensed at the news, their faces a collage of outrage and concern.

Andy glanced at her shocked friends. "But... but how can that be? She's been with the centre for more than twenty years? They can't just fire her! What will we do without her?"

Nigel crossed his arms and looked at her thoughtfully. "Actually... Irv was going to shut down the entire choir."

A group of shocked faces pinned him down and he removed his spectacles to nervously wipe them with the corner of his vest.

"He said that we cost him too much money and have nothing to show for it. The choir hasn't given any big concerts or won a competition in over a decade."

A murmur of exasperation went through the singers.

"Well it still is just completely unacceptable," Emily spoke, hands on her hips.

"I know, I know." Nigel sighed and shoved the glasses back onto his nose. "Irv wants to rent out the auditorium, full-time. He said it will bring in more money."

A solemn silence befell the choir members and Andy tilted her head to look up at the high ceiling. This was the place she had spent every Friday night at, for the past three years, doing something she loved. It wasn't the prettiest of buildings, nothing fancy or historic, just regular, straightforward 1980s architecture. However the acoustics we're great and it had become sort of a second home to her. The thought of losing it, and the choir, made her sad.

"Wait a minute," she looked back at her friends when she suddenly realized something. "Nigel, you said that Irv _was going to_ shut down the choir. Does that mean that now he's not?"

The pianist nodded with something akin to a hopeful grin playing on his lips. "Yes, I gave him an alternative and bought us some time."

Lily jumped down from her position on the stage and hugged the man. "Awesome, Nigel!"

"Yes, thanks Nigel," Douglas grinned at him.

Emily sceptically crossed her arms. "Do you mind telling us what that alternative is, and how, exactly, you bought us time?"

The choir members all drew closer as Nigel conspiratorially stroked his chin.

"Well, I got an old friend of mine to lead the choir, free of charge. If she can turn us around before the new year arrives, which I believe she is more than capable of achieving, Irv will rethink closing us down."

Cheerful yells and thunderous clapping rolled up the high ceiling and echoed off the wood panelled walls.

"Awesome, man." Nate gave him a high-five and a happy smirk.

"Don't thank me yet. This will mean a lot of hard work," the pianist said in mock-seriousness.

Andy reached over to hug him and whispered, "Thank you, Nigel. We owe you one! We won't disappoint!" and Lily punched into the air and gave a shout, "Alright! Bring it on!"

A sudden voice, steady and low, but forceful, startled them out of their cheerful banter.

"Nigel, if I had known I was to work at a _day care_, then I would have certainly reconsidered your offer."

The familiarity of the timbre forced Andy's head to jerk around and she gaped at the woman who was now slowly walking down the middle aisle between the seats.

_Oh crap!_ Andy thought as she watched the way her rude _Starbucks_ Lady's eyes first pinned down every choir member before finally finding her. She certainly did not imagine that the ice-blue gaze lingered on her a little longer and the thoroughly ridiculous idea of cowering behind Nigel seemed suddenly very appealing.

The stern, white-haired lady stopped in front of the pianist and to every one's surprise the man reached out and enveloped her in a big hug.

"Miranda dear, I'm so happy to see you. Thank you so much for doing this!" Nigel beamed as he pulled away. "Guys and gals, meet your new choral director, Miranda Priestly."

The choir members studied their new conductor, taking in her regal posture, the expensive clothes and the determined and challenging look on her face. The first to speak was Emily, who stepped forward to shake Miranda's hand.

"Mrs. Priestly, welcome to our little choir." The red-head gave an eager smile. "My name is Emily and I'm the solo soprano."

Miranda narrowed her eyes and withdrew her hand as if she had just touched something utterly revolting. Andy remembered the poison in the older woman's face when she had accidentally called her 'Ma'am'. If she didn't hate Emily so much, she'd feel sorry for the look the young woman was now receiving.

"You will call me by my given name." Miranda said calmly, but with an underlying current of pure vice that sent chills up everybody's spine. "No more pleasantries, I'm here to work. So... go and set up." She flicked her fingers in the direction of the stage but nobody seemed to be moving.

"_Now_ would be a good time," she added quietly, her eyes burning into every single person standing before her.

Andy, having been confronted by this woman before, was the first who was able to move. "Come on, guys." She climbed the steps onto the stage and took her position on the right. Sheepishly the remaining singers joined her, stealing glances back at the white-haired woman who watched them intently, before shrugging out of her coat and draping it delicately across a nearby chair.

"Nigel?" She raised an eyebrow at him and indicated the grand piano.

"Oh, right," the bald man hurried up the steps and took his seat behind the black and white keys.

All eyes stayed on Miranda as she elegantly walked on stage, the clacking of her high heels echoing through the vastness of the room. Andy's gaze was drawn to the older woman's hips as a manicured thumb and index finger tugged at the stylish belt the conductor was wearing over her aubergine, knee-high dress.

"We will begin with an evaluation of your vocal ranges. Sing a 5th scale on each note that is played. We will first move up two octaves and then back and down the other end," she said while pointedly looking at each and every singer. "Try to keep up even if it feels outside your normal range, but do not strain your voice. This isn't a competition, it's merely an exercise for me to hear what I have to work with."

She turned to the pianist. "Nigel, middle 'C'."

The choir timidly began singing scales and Miranda moved from her position and paced in front of them as they moved up toward the 'C5'.

"Okay, stop," the conductor interrupted with an exasperated wave of her hands. "That was dreadful. Are you here to whisper, or are you here to sing?"

The singers looked at each other dumbstruck. They were not used to being spoken to like this. Judith had never said anything negative to them in the many years as their conductor.

"Start again. This time, more volume and articulation. Nigel?"

This time the choir sang a little better. Andy kept her eyes on Miranda, who resumed her walk through their ranks, not giving any more indication as to her positive or negative opinion. They trailed up two octaves and then down three, the low notes only being sung by the older men and Nate, who had a nice bass voice.

When they were done the conductor regarded them with one hand on her hip and an index finger tapping against her lips.

"You," she briefly raised her chin in Andy's direction. "Why do you stand with the altos?"

Andy uncomfortably shifted her eyes. "Well... uhm, I have an alto voice."

Miranda crossed her arms, tilted back her head and stared at the brunette through lowered lashes. "No you don't. Go stand with the sopranos," the conductor said while jerking her chin toward the other side of the stage.

The growl from Emily was impossible to ignore when Andy walked over and stood next to the red-head. Miranda remained still for a while and appeared to be contemplating the rest of the singers before her and Andy was struck by the intelligence she saw in those intense eyes. Seemingly having made up her mind, the older woman spun on her heel and moved a hand back on her hips.

"I will need an assistant to take care of sheet music and all those things." The white-haired woman narrowed her gaze at where the sopranos stood. "Any volunteers?"

Immediately Emily's hand shot up and Andy rolled her eyes. She could practically hear the Brit's internal chanting of 'Pick me! Pick meeee!'

The conductor merely indicated the red-head to follow her down the steps and retrieved some papers from her bag. "Here. Make enough copies." She held out the sheets and Emily eagerly grabbed them and dashed for the door.

As Miranda reached for her coat, she spoke without turning back to the choir. "One day a week of rehearsal is not enough. I will see you back here Sunday afternoon, three p.m. sharp." And with that she swung the black fur around her shoulders, grabbed her purse, and briskly strode toward the door and out of the auditorium, leaving behind a very stunned choir.

"Holy crap!" Lily exclaimed. "What the hell just happened?"

Some people were giggling and Nate let out a whistle. "Nigel, in which dark and scary place did you dig _her_ up?"

The pianist spun around on his stool and raised his eyebrows at the group.

"Come on, she's really not that bad. Yes, maybe a bit strict, but she knows what she's doing. She's one of the best. And if anyone can save this choir, _which all of you love so much_," he emphasized the words, "... it's her."

Douglas walked over to stand beside the piano. "If you say so, Nigel, but she'll take some getting used to. She's certainly nothing like Judith."

Everybody nodded and murmured in agreement. Comparing their warm and friendly previous conductor to the mind-numbing presence that was Miranda, seemed utterly comical.

"So, soprano-girl," Lily stood beside her friend and gently thumped her in the shoulder, "How about some strong drinks and a chance to put your money where your high-C mouth is?" Andy giggled and swatted back at the other woman. "You're on!"

* * *

A few hours and a few margaritas later Andy found herself blaring away to ABBA's 'Dancing Queen' while Lily, Douglas and Nate cheered her on. The journalist felt a lot safer, singing only among the four of them and the alcohol flowing in her veins certainly helped their part. Despite her love for music she still felt intimidated by singing solo in front of others and for the past three years she had always been content with hiding between the other singers in the choir.

She had known she could sing higher than an average alto and she would frequently sing pieces written for mezzo-soprano or even soprano in the safety of her own little apartment. However when it came to the choir, and the fact of possibly having to take solo parts, she would always chicken out. Andy simply did not believe she was good enough.

Swinging her hips to the last couple of beats of the song she moved back to the large sofa where her friends sat.

"Bravo!" Doug clapped his hands together. "That was great, girl!"

Nate jumped up and put his hands on his hips and jutted his chin forward. "Don't you mean... _dreadful_?"

Douglas giggled in response and Lily nearly choked on her drink.

"Damn! Nate you nearly killed me!" she wiped her mouth.

The young man sat back down and grinned. "I bet nothing is ever good enough for the _Ice Queen_."

"_Snow_ Queen," Andy said before she could stop herself. Her friends gave her quizzical looks.

"She's more like snow. Not ice," Andy tried to elaborate, unsure whether her foggy mind could still muster the appropriate words. "It's as if, as soon as she enters the room, she envelopes you in a thick blanket of snow. It's beautiful at first, and you're drawn in, so you don't notice how it slowly weighs you down, and pins you to the floor. The cold slowly seeps into your body and sucks the warmth from you, one cutting remark at a time." Andy ran her fingertips along the sugar-crusted rim of her glass.

"Girl, I'm not drunk enough yet, for you to go all philosophical on us," Lily joked and patted her friend's shoulder. Doug just gazed at her thoughtfully and Nate gave a lopsided grin and shook his dark curls.

"Well, whatever she is, I'm sure as hell not going to show up on Sunday," he said before taking another gulp from his beer.

"Me either," Lily chimed, reaching across the table to high-five Nate.

"I have to work this Sunday," Doug said with a sober-sounding sigh.

Andy just shrugged at her friends. The sheet music Emily had distributed earlier had definitely piqued a semi-excited interest and she had actually been looking forward to more frequent rehearsal sessions. She was not entirely sure how she should feel about the new conductor, but there was something intriguing about the older woman, as rude as she may appear.

Something in those blue eyes had hinted at a vast depth and Andy felt like she wanted to know more. She replayed their earlier collision outside of _Starbucks_ and the memory of brushing against the soft fur coat and smelling the subtle perfume somehow caused her pulse to quicken. The journalist decided to not inform her friends about her previous run-in with their new conductor. For some reason keeping it a secret made it less embarrassing and a bit more special.

"So how about the teacher's pet nearly ripping out her arm to become _assistant?_" Lily said after she had noticed Andy's contemplative state.

"Oh don't get me started!" Andy giggled and took a sip from her drink while Douglas got up for his turn at the karaoke machine.

* * *

Miranda hung her coat in the hallway closet and walked into the living room of her empty apartment with a long sigh.

_Well, that could have certainly gone better,_ she thought as she placed her purse on an end-table and then elegantly took a seat on her cream-coloured sofa. She slipped her feet from the high heels and curled up against the soft armrest.

The choir was pretty hopeless, their voices nowhere near as strong as would be needed for concerts or a chance at placing in a regional competition. There was the mediocre, over-eager red-head whose name Miranda had already forgotten, then there was the well-dressed young man with a decent tenor voice and of course the doe-eyed brunette who had been hiding her soprano range between the uninspired altos. The young woman certainly lacked confidence and was a bit of a dreamer. That had already become clear when she had almost knocked Miranda over, earlier that evening, on the street outside the coffee house.

The conductor sighed again and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Yes, it would certainly take a lot of time and effort to get that group of misfits to sound anywhere near decent.

The ringing phone pulled her from her thoughts and she reached past the table lamp to pick up the receiver.

"Yes? … good evening, Father. I just got in... yes, I've sort of taken up the offer to begin working again. Yes... I know." She absentmindedly twirled her fingers around a few strands of her hair. "How was the hospital? Uhh-hmm... that sounds good. Yes I'll be there for Thanksgiving... Alright... Give my love to the others. Yes..." she sighed and rubbed her tired eyes. "I know, Father... goodnight."

She rested the receiver on her shoulder and glanced at the stuccoed ceiling while rubbing her temples before she replaced the phone back on the side table.

Why was this still so hard?

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** This chapter is a bit shorter but I will be gone for a few days and did not want to leave you guys hanging. Writing the last part made me cry. It's really sad and I feel so bad for leaving a chapter with that emotion, but just keep in mind that, although the path may be long and hard, in the end I love my happy fluff. So I promise. It will come! ^_^;

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**Chapter 2 **

On Sunday Andy arrived in the auditorium at two forty-five. Nigel was just setting up by the piano and turned around to greet her with a smile.

"Well, hello there. You're here early."

She smiled back and gave a short wave. "Hi Nigel! I'm not _that_ early. I'm actually surprised that nobody else is here yet." She dropped her jacket and bag on a chair, took out the sheet music and proceeded to walk up on stage and take position next to the pianist.

"Did you have a nice weekend so far?" she asked the bald man while spreading out the papers on the shiny, black surface of the instrument.

Nigel raised his eyebrows. "Well, if you consider spending Saturday evening alone, watching _Project Catwalk_ reruns _in my pyjamas "nice"_ then yes, Honey. Plenty!"

She snorted at him. "I hear ya. I was so bored that I reorganized my entire closet." Nigel gave her a look which said he didn't normally leave that kind of stuff to moments of desperate boredom, so Andy smiled and patted his shoulder.

"Anyway. I guess Friday counts as a night out, but, you know, it doesn't really fill that spot," she looked down at her hands.

"It should have been nice, because I was with my friends, but I still felt like I was missing something, and returning to an empty home afterward is not really the best end to a night."

The pianist sighed and nodded.

Andy looked around the empty auditorium. "You know, I was actually looking forward to rehearsal today. It gives Sunday a purpose." She smiled at the pianist whose eyes twinkled back at her.

"Come on, let's do some warming up," he grinned and began playing.

Nigel's voice was a pleasant and warm baritone and he closed his eyes as he sang.

_"Why do I feel... discouraged... and why do the shadows come... "_

_"Why does my heart feel lonely," _at this he raised his lids and gazed at Andy with a sad light shining in his eyes.

_"And long for heaven and home."_

He gently shook his head as his fingers travelled soulfully across the keys. The sound of the piano rose to the ceiling and cascaded back down all around them as he indicated for Andy to sing the next part.

_"When Jesus is my portion... My constant friend is he..."_ she closed her eyes to truly feel the music, whether she believed in a god or not._ "His eye... is on... the sparrow, and I know... he watches me."_

_"I sing,"_ At this point Nigel chimed back in and they continued in harmony, _"because... I'm happy. And I sing... because I'm free..." _Andy felt the melancholy take hold of her, and she wondered if maybe she should start believing in a god, to fill part of the emptiness inside of her.

_"For his eye... is on... the sparrow, and I know... he watches me."_

Nigel smiled at her as he played the short interlude and Andy took a deep breath to sing the refrain one more time.

_"I sing, because I'm happy... and I sing... because I'm free,"_ she carefully played around with the high note, letting it roll up and down a full step. _"For his eye... is on... the sparrow,"_ she glanced back at Nigel, the words of the song binding them through their common loneliness. _"And I know, he watches... me..."_

The muffled sound of heels on carpeted floor broke them out of the song and Andy stared in horror as Miranda approached the stage with an unreadable expression on her perfect face.

"Hi, Miranda," Andy squeaked out, too embarrassed for having been caught singing solo by a stranger.

The conductor nodded her head while she shrugged out of her indigo, suede coat, placed it over the back of a chair, and then leisurely strode up to join them.

The brunette found herself speechless as she studied the tight, black skirt the older woman was wearing. It reached just above her knees and was complimented by a tight, off-white shirt which was bound at the waist with a silk band, and sporting a V-neck that exposed a generous amount of skin without being vulgar.

_Pure class,_ Andy thought and tried to pry her gaze away from the conductor's chest and up to the raised eyebrow and annoyed look on the older woman's features.

"Your singing was unsatisfactory," Miranda stated bluntly and it hit Andy in the gut, which had already been in turmoil. Defeated, she hung her head and exhaled sharply.

"I know. I'm not very good," she mumbled as she collected the sheet music from the top of the grand piano. The conductor's even voice made her stop.

"Nigel go back to the refrain." She briefly lifted her chin at Andy.

"And you... what was your name again?"

The brunette looked at Nigel for help, but the pianist only raised his brows and rolled his eyes to indicate that she was on her own.

"Um, Andy... Andy Sachs."

The older woman looked her up and down and her expression was that of disbelief and slight mockery.

"Well, um... it's _Andrea_, actually, but everyone calls me Andy," she stammered.

Why was she so nervous? Being shy around strangers was a trait she thought she had shaken off somewhere during her senior year in college. You could not call yourself a journalist and choke up during interviews with somebody famous. However, for an inexplicable reason this woman's intense gaze turned her into a babbling idiot. Maybe it was the authority that radiated off her. Andy realized that despite the condescending way Miranda seemed to talk to everyone, one still felt the need to acquire her approval.

_Yes, that's it,_ Andy thought. Their new conductor just oozed professionalism, something Andy had missed in the past years with the choir. Judith had been a sweet, friendly director, but in all honesty, Andy had learned absolutely nothing from her.

"Andrea," Miranda said evenly, putting emphasis on the second syllable instead of the first. "Sing again."

Dazed by the exotic way her name had rolled off the older woman's lips Andy nearly missed that Nigel had begun playing. She quickly scraped together the last functioning bits of her brain and squared her shoulders.

_"And I sing... because I'm happy..."_ she knew it came out all wrong, too timid and without volume, and she closed her eyes and mentally steeled herself for another verbal onslaught by the white-haired conductor. Her heart skipped a beat when she felt two hands gently pressing down on her shoulders.

"Relax." Miranda spoke from behind her. "Your posture is all wrong. You're too tense." A pair of thumbs dug into Andy's upper back just above her shoulder blades and the journalist felt that relaxing was the last thing she would be able to achieve at that very moment.

_"And I sing... because I'm free..."_

The conductor loosely pulled Andy's shoulders back. "Stand straight. Chest out, chin low."

_"His eye... is on the spar..."_

An invisible brick wall hit her across the length of her entire body when she felt the hands sliding down and two palms joining each other flat on her belly.

"Sing from your abdomen, not your chest."

The brunette could no longer find her voice and Nigel had to continue playing the same part over and over again in a loop while the warm palms pressed against Andy more firmly.

"Push against my hands."

The subtle perfume she had noticed the previous Friday, seemed to reach for her with seductive little tendrils and she felt the heat from her middle sink lower. _Oh my god, you gotta be kidding me,_ she chided herself.

"Andrea? Begin again."

The low almost-whisper travelled the short distance to the back of her neck and sent a shiver down her spine. She felt so vulnerable and exposed that her inner defensive mechanisms kicked in with a rush of adrenaline and she took a deep breath and tensed her stomach muscles against the warm pressure.

_"I sing... because I'm happy..."_ The words left her with conviction and she was surprised at how powerful she all of a sudden sounded.

_"And I sing... because, I'm free..."_ She felt how she now utilized more than just her lungs and she finally understood how the sound was built up inside her entire body and not just her chest and throat.

"Yes, that's it," Miranda whispered and withdrew her hands to step away.

Andy immediately covered the empty, tingly spot on her stomach with her own hand.

_"His eye... is on... the sparrow,"_ she took a chance at singing the last word with a high note instead of going down low, and the clear tone she produced even forced Nigel to look up at her with a pleasantly surprised expression.

_"And I know... he watches,"_ she glanced sideways at the conductor who had the hint of a sparkle in her dark blue irises.

_"Me..."_ She ended the last note with an even decrescendo as she looked out over the auditorium, picturing the path the sound waves of her voice were taking.

Nigel removed his fingers from the keys to ball them against his hips in astonished appreciation and Andy beamed back at him.

"Well, well, _Little Sparrow_! That was... new," the pianist said with a smirk.

The brunette tried to get her own huge grin under control and looked at the conductor for signs of approval. However, there were none.

Miranda merely narrowed her eyes at her watch and said, in a calm and even tone, "Where is everybody? Is it too much to ask for people to be punctual?"

Andy apologetically furrowed her brows but before she could incite the conductor's wrath by delivering excuses for her absent friends, hurried footsteps were heard from the hallway and the door swung open. Seven choir members swarmed in, including a red-faced Emily and Douglas. They quickly shed their coats and bags and hurried on stage.

"I thought you had to work, Dougie," Andy whispered, the relief at seeing her friend betraying her stern voice.

He gave a sheepish grin and shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't want to seem too eager in front of Nate and Lily. I did have to work this morning, but I wouldn't miss _this_ for the world," he whispered while nodding at the white-haired conductor.

Andy smiled at him, determined that she would not share what he _had_ actually just missed. She wasn't even sure herself about what had happened. Still feeling the faint buzz of Miranda's warm hands on her abdomen, a mix of giddiness and confusion raced through her. She watched as the older woman crossed her arms and took position in front of the few choir members.

"Well how nice of you to finally grace us with your presence," the conductor said, the voice leaving nasty gashes on everybody's self-esteem . Andy wondered if Miranda really meant to be so harsh, or whether she just had the habit of directing anger from the actual target, to those who actually did something right. In this case someone else would have been pleased with the few people who had actually shown up, and only displeased with those, who had not. A quick look at her watch told her it was only one minute past three.

"One of the conditions, which Mr. Ravitz placed on this choir's continued existence, involved giving concerts," the white-haired woman spoke while striding slowly back and forth in front of the singers.

"You will perform at a Christmas event on December 24th. This means we will have to build a sufficient set-list in just one month."

Excited gasps travelled through the group and Andy felt very nervous at the thought. It would be her first ever concert and now she'd have to sing much higher and more complicated sections. Trying to get something decent together in only one month, of course, also meant that she'd spend a lot more time at rehearsal and in the presence of Miranda. Hmmm, suddenly it didn't sound so bad anymore.

* * *

A cold breeze stole inside and rattled the collection of wind chimes above the entrance as Miranda stepped into the store. She closed the door with a slight shiver, welcoming the relative warmth away from the dreary evening.

"Hello, Ms. Priestly."

The corners of her mouth twitched briefly in her own version of friendly acknowledgement and she walked up to the clerk.

"The usual?" the kind, old man behind the counter asked.

"Yes please."

The man nodded and walked to the back of the shop. Miranda took a deep breath, inhaling the distinctive variations of flower fragrances that enveloped her. She closed her eyes and let the scent calm her, easing away the tension of her day.

Working again had turned out a lot more complicated than she had imagined. Somehow she found herself with the impossible task of making an inexperienced and mediocre casual choir sound good enough to perform in a church on Christmas Eve. The old 'her' would have embraced the chance to mold and guide a group of singers, and bring them to new heights. She had loved teaching when it came to music. It had always tremendously excited her to discover hidden talent and see the smouldering fires of passion another person's eyes when they finally discovered their true love for the art.

That young woman, Andrea, had tickled some of those old feelings in Miranda today. Her large, insecure eyes had completely changed once the brunette had found her real sound. The brown orbs had flooded with sudden understanding and she had sounded raw but beautiful.

Miranda had startled herself with touching Andrea. It was something she had done all the time in the past, after all it was a normal method of teaching proper breathing and posture. However, she hadn't placed her hands on anyone outside her family in the past five years and somehow her impulse to reach out and help the young woman discover herself this afternoon, had won from her carefully constructed defenses.

"There ya go," the clerk had returned and placed the bouquet in front of her.

She handed him a twenty dollar bill and picked up the flowers. Pink lilies. Like every week. "Thank you."

"Oh, and, Ms. Priestly, remember that next Sunday we won't be open. I'll be up state with my children for the Thanksgiving weekend."

She nodded, too stricken to offer another smile and turned around to leave. The cold air slammed into her body as she left the small cemetery flower shop and walked down the main gravel path between the rows of headstones. She would have loved to spend the coming holiday with her two children, but that was no longer possible. Her chest tightened and she took faster steps, determined not to give into her ever lurking depression.

She approached the familiar spot under the balding weeping willow and sucked in the icy November air through her nostrils to try and prepare herself. Careful not to kneel in the moist grass she leaned down and removed the previous week's bouquet. She placed the fresh flowers and then tenderly trailed her fingers along the engraved letters on the marble stone.

_"Here lies Cassidy Priestly. 1992-2002. Beloved daughter, grand-daughter and sister. You will forever be in our hearts."_

"Hello Bobbsey," she whispered gently, "sorry, that Mommy's a bit late today."

She rocked back and carefully balanced on her heels, placing both hands in her lap and studying her fingers.

"Your sister's operation went well. Your grandparents are confident that this time it will..." she swallowed hard, "... will have the desired effect."

She sat in silence for a while and watched the little flames of the graveyard candles dance behind their red covers.

"I will visit them this Thursday. It's Thanksgiving already again," she continued after a while, the coldness of the earth below grabbing at her ankles and seeping up her skirt. Wrapping her arms tightly around her midriff she unsuccessfully tried to suppress the shudder from claiming her body. There had been days where she had gladly wished to let go, where she had wanted to just be taken by the freezing harshness beckoning for her. She had come very close to give up on life once, but thankfully that thought seemed alien to her now.

She knew her punishment was to keep on living, with the pain and guilt she carried as her burden. She had lost one daughter in this world, and the other was physically marked for the rest of her life. A constant, brutal reminder of Miranda's failure to protect her children.

She aimed her glistening eyes at the darkened sky, seeking out the first stars and revelling in the stinging sensation of the night air softly blowing against her wet cheeks.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I'm sorry for the long wait, but here it is then. Part three! :D The translation of the Russian lyrics can be found at the bottom of the chapter. I don't speak Russian but all versions I own of Rachmaninov's "All Night Virgil" have the song in it's original language and I believe it sounds so much better than the translations.

**A/N2:** There's a lot of Andy/Douglas friendship in this chapter. I don't really know why but they just strike me as total BFFs and I was feeling all gooey. ^_^

* * *

**Chapter 3 **The small diner felt like a safe haven in the hectic bustle of the midday Monday and Andy sunk down into the red leather booth with a deep sigh. She removed her messenger bag from her shoulders and took out her laptop.

"No, no, Andy. No work!" Her friend Douglas said from across the table. "Let's just have a relaxing lunch together without our jobs dragging down the mood."

Andy blew air against her bangs, lifting up the dark hairs, and placed the computer back in its case.

"Alright. Sorry." She gave her friend a tired smile.

"Tough day?"

"Yeah, you could say that. You know how it is during Thanksgiving week."

Douglas leaned forward and studied her face.

"Wow, you look like crap! Did you sleep?"

She leaned her arms on the table and dropped her head onto them with a moan.

"I slept like crap, Dougie."

He snorted at her. "What? My little 'comatose-as-soon-as-her-face-hits-the-pillow' buddy didn't get a proper night's sleep?"

Andy raised her head again and pinned him down with a glare and a pout.

"Hi guys, what can I get you?" A cheery waitress with blond curls placed some water on their table.

"Two ice teas, a club sandwich and a Caesar Salad." Doug pointed at Andy. "Oh and get my friend here a coffee."

Once the girl had left, Doug leaned closer again and rested his chin on his fists.

"So. Spill. What had you tossing and turning all night?"

Andy blushed furiously and mumbled something into her palms.

"What did you say?" He raised his eyebrows, sensing that whatever the reason for his friend's sleepless night, it was bound to be juicy.

"I said _dreams_," Andy repeated sheepishly.

Doug's lips stretched into a wide grin.

"Ha! Spill, girlfriend! Was it hot and spicy?"

Andy felt her cheeks burn and she buried her face completely in her hands. There was no way she was going to talk about this. It was way too embarrassing, so she just shook her head and exhaled audibly against her palms.

"It wasn't about Nate, was it? He's been trying to come on to you for months!" Doug said in what sounded like a mixture of excitement and disappointment at the same time.

The brunette quickly pulled her hands away from her face and stared at her friend in disbelief.

"What? No! Ugh! I mean... he's a nice guy but... no thanks!"

Douglas leaned back into the booth and laughed, drumming his palms on the smooth surface of the table.

"Wow, you should have seen your face. Poor Nate!"

"Well, he's just not my type," Andy mumbled as she reached for her glass to take a cool sip.

"So, if it isn't Mister Karaoke Master himself, then _who_ is invading your dreams so deliciously?"

Andy swallowed a large gulp of her water and slowly set down the glass before she said in a half-whisper, "I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

His eyes suddenly went wide and his hands froze flat on the table.

"It's not me, is it?"

Andy's sudden, explosive laughter startled the customers at the neighbouring tables.

"Oh god no! I love you, Dougie, but... like a brother." She reached over to pat his hands. "Nothing more, nothing less."

"Phew!" He exhaled dramatically and then broke into giggles.

"Okay, just tell me then. Who is it?" He was not going to let it go.

The young journalist considered her options. She could refuse to answer, which would result in an endless amount of teasing and mockery, or she could just come out and say it, shocking her friend and maybe losing his respect.

"Promise you won't judge me?" She asked serious enough to stop the last few of his giggles.

Douglas nodded, sensing that Andy was about to confide in him with something life-altering.

"Okay. Well..." She was fidgeting with her hands and Doug could swear she had turned a paler shade.

"Andy, you can honestly trust me! You're like my sister." He took one of her hands in his and let the sincerity shine through his eyes. "I promise I won't judge you."

The brunette nodded and took a deep breath.

"I dreamt about Miranda."

Doug's face was blank for a moment, as if he expected some additional elaboration of sorts. Then, when it finally started to sink in, his eyes went wide and he squeezed his friend's hand.

"Miranda? As in, our new, super-hot, lady cougar choral director?"

Andy nodded her head, which she was sure would be beet red by now.

"Oh Sweetie," he raised his hand to cup Andy's cheek. "That is nothing to be embarrassed about! She is absolutely, dashingly fabulous!"

Doug's wide grin lured out a small smile of her own and Andy relaxed her shoulders.

"It's just, you know... she's a woman... and all that."

Her friend became a bit thoughtful. "Is this the first time you have dreamt about another woman in this way?"

Andy hesitantly shook her head. "No. But it's never been this intense and obvious before."

A fresh blush adorned her cheeks and she looked down to their clasped hands. "I mean... it was pretty clear what this dream meant."

Doug let go of her hand and stood up to walk around the table and slide next to Andy.

He hugged her and whispered, "Welcome to the club, Sweetie. Now both of us can spend choir rehearsals in a constant state of 'swoon'."

Andy pulled away. "Both of us? Huh? I thought you were..." Andy was thoroughly confused. "You have a thing for Miranda?"

Her friend snorted and dismissively waved his hands in the air.

"Andy, Andy. Really... whatever do you think of me? No, the Snow Queen is all yours! I just ogle the Piano Man." He had a dreamy look on his face and they both burst into giggles again when their food and Andy's coffee arrived.

"Now, let's eat and then get back to work. As much as I'd love to indulge in this day-time slumber party, I have to be back in the office in twenty minutes."

The brunette gave her friend a lingering hug and then pulled away with a sweet smile. "Thank you Dougie. You really are my best friend!"

"I know, BFFs and all that!" He poked her shoulder and sent her a lovely grin.

"Wednesday rehearsal sure is going to be extra fun now!" He giggled as he moved back into his seat and picked up his fork.

* * *

On Tuesday morning Andy descended the steep stairs to the The New York Mirror basement. She had been working on an article about the planned closure of the St. John's School for Disadvantaged Children and needed to go and browse the paper's archives for further references. The Mirror had recently begun to digitalise their collection, however so far they were only down to the three previous years. Anything longer than that was still only available on microfilm. As a smaller newspaper, they did not have the funds to hire external companies to do the job, and their scanning project was more or less run by volunteer Mirror staff on the weekends.

She set down her Starbucks paper cup on a nearby table and walked to the shelves to retrieve the appropriate tapes. Placing the first one in the machine she took a seat on the wobbly stool in front of it. She'd have to look in the _local_ or _community_ section, and Andy decided to start at the five year mark and then work her way forward. Anything longer than that would not be relevant to her article.

Turning the wheel she let her eyes get accustomed to the bright light projecting the microfilms. She worked her way through the first few months of 2002 in less than an hour and had to sit back to rub her strained eyes. Maybe she should assist with the project more often, to make these kind of searches easier in the future. She massaged the back of her neck and rolled her head until she heard a few cracks. She'd need to take a break soon.

Bending back down to place her eyes above the viewer she continued her search. She found an article from October 2002 about the closure of a local kindergarten for disabled children and the subsequent protests and collections which resulted in extra government founding and preservation. Andy printed it and moved on. She rushed through November and proceeded into the month of December, steadily scrolling through the film, her mind focused on specific keywords in the headlines.

Suddenly her eyes caught a familiar name and she quickly turned back the wheel. Above a photo of a familiar face were the bold, heart-wrenching words, _'Christmas Drama - Family Ripped Apart by Horrible Accident.'_ Andy's breath caught and she felt her heart sink like a heavy rock. She stared at the black and white picture of Miranda walking out of a hospital with an older woman by her side. The conductor was wearing large flasses but the distress on her face was clearly visible and she seemed to be leaning heavily on the woman beside her.

_"M. Priestly, 42, successful choral director of the New York Sunshine Singers, exiting the ER this morning,"_ was the caption below and Andy's chest felt tight. She began reading the article and within the first few words tears started spilling down her cheeks.

Miranda had lost one of her ten-year old twin daughters in an accident, caused by her drunk ex-husband, and father of the girls. Apparently he had been having a long-standing alcohol problem, and despite the court orders, had not succeeded in getting his alcoholism treated. The custody agreement had allowed him to take the girls every second month and during select holidays and on the fateful day, Christmas Eve of that year, he had been driving under the influence of cheap whiskey, with the children in the back of the car.

He had lost control of the vehicle on a bridge and the car had plummeted down into the small, but icy river. Miranda's ex-husband had died on impact but the two children had survived and were left alone to fend for their lives against their injuries and the ice cold water flowing into the car wreck. The hypothermia had proven too much for one of the girls and she had succumbed to her injuries before rescue workers had been able to get to the scene.

Andy wiped her wet face with the sleeves of her sweater and tried to get her breathing under control. She hiccuped a few times and stared at the screen, feeling as if all happiness had just been ripped from her. She thought of Miranda and the agony she must have felt at the news. Having a child die under such excruciating circumstances must be the most horrible thing any parent could ever experience. Her heart ached for the beautiful, intelligent woman and she realized that their first concert would be on the five-year anniversary of the tragic accident.

Too sick to continue her research she printed the article and shut everything down. She would not be able to get much work done now.

For the rest of the day her mind kept trailing back to the conductor and sorrow lay on her shoulders like a heavy blanket, pulling her usual cheery self down so low that all her colleagues noticed. It wasn't uncommon for news writers to sometimes be influenced by a tragic story so her fellow journalists gave her some space and Andy spend most of her time searching google for articles about Miranda's previous career.

The New York Sunshine Singers had been the _New York Choir Sing-Off_ winners four years in a row, starting in 1999, with Miranda as their choral director. Described as the most amazing choir New York had ever seen, they had completely enamored New York and the judges and pulled a clear win every time. Andy wondered why she had never heard about that choir or Miranda before, but she realized that her interest in singing had never been of a competitive nature, nor had she been in New York, or with her own choir, at that time.

Andy scrolled through the few image results and studied Miranda's previously blond hair, in the still familiar, coiffed bob with the longer, slightly curled locks in front. Five years was a short time for someone's hair to go completely white, plus Miranda was only forty-seven now, not really an age where most people already had a thick mane of silver. _It must have been the grief, _Andy thought.

There was absolutely nothing online about Miranda after the accident and Andy wondered whether the conductor had left the country, or at least the state.

At five in the afternoon she gave up her search and grabbed her jacket and bag. She knew that her evening would be spent with a large tub of ice-cream and a line-up of happy movies to somehow attempt to brighten her mood. For a moment she considered phoning Doug but she decided against it, feeling that it was somehow wrong to share Miranda's background with someone else as if it were the latest gossip. She huddled into her scarf and braced herself for the cold November air. Not even the jolly Thanksgiving spirit on the street could cheer her up anymore today.

* * *

When she entered the Auditorium on Wednesday evening, Miranda noticed to her relief that the entire choir was present and on time. Apparently her little speech on Sunday had worked. She walked down the center aisle, removed her coat and bag and proceeded to walk onto the stage, her high heels clacking loudly against the wooden floor with each step. As she stood before the group her eyes met the dark brown orbs of Andrea Sachs. The young woman looked at her with concern and... _pity_.

If there was one thing that Miranda absolutely hated, it was being pitied. She understood that her tragic past had been spread all over the local papers and was free for anyone to research, however she felt like her plan for a new start would be tainted if people knew about her background. She squared her shoulders and ordered everyone to pick up their sheet music.

"We'll begin from the top. For those of you who have been absent on Sunday, just read the music and try and catch up." She put a hand on her hip and pointed at Emily. "You. Take notes of the comments I make and distribute them to all choir members after rehearsal."

She then raised her arms in front of her and lifted her index fingers in an alert to get ready.

"Wait!" Nate called from his spot in the back. "What kind of language is that? I can't read this."

Andrea, who stood next to the bass singers, punched him in the side and hissed, "Shh, it's Russian, written in Cyrillic. Just read the bottom line phonetically."

"Would you two be quiet," Miranda said in her low, scalding tone. "If you wish to engage in frivolities you may leave."

"No... s-sorry, Miranda," the brunette mumbled, blushing.

Miranda raised her arms again and nodded to Nigel to play an 'A'.

"We'll go through each voice separately, first soprano."

Her hands moved up, bending delicately at the wrists and when she pulled them down in an elegant bow, the five sopranos started to sing.

_"Bo-go-ro-di-sye De-e-vo... ra-a-a-a-a-a-duy-sia..."_

"Stop!" The conductor held up one hand and flicked her eyes shut in an attempt to calm her displeasure.

"That was horrible! Completely devoid of emotion." Pointing at Emily she continued, "You. This isn't some kind of silly birthday party where you can bellow into a karaoke machine like a drunken sailor. It says _'piano'_."

"And Andrea," she placed one hand on her hip and raised the other to rub the bridge of her nose. "Are you even present? Remember your posture and breathing. I could not hear you at all." She crossed her arms and glared into those large brown eyes. "If you wish to hide between the altos again like a coward, then be my guest."

She saw hurt flicker across Andrea's face but it was quickly replaced by determination and the brunette shook her head, straightening her back and placing a palm on her belly.

The conductor's gaze lingered on the younger woman's hand and she remembered her actions of the previous Sunday. Andrea had completely transformed under her touch and it had tickled something awake inside of Miranda. A memory of emotions she had locked away and had hoped to forget. She shook her head and inhaled sharply through her nose.

"Again."

This time she could make out the brunette's clear voice. It was beautiful. Strong, yet tender enough for the soft beginning of the song. The other four would have to practice to match the wonderful timbre. Raw emotion was shining through Andrea's eyes and Miranda understood that the younger woman truly felt the spirit of the song and its purpose.

As the conductor's hands gracefully glided through the air, guiding the voices toward the steep crescendo, she felt something stir in her chest. Andrea's lids were lowered and she stood in the bright stage light like an angel with a soft halo radiating off her silky hair while she sang from her heart. The image struck Miranda and began to induce a warmth into her bloodstream which she hadn't felt in years.

A sudden panic rose and the warmth was quickly expelled with a forceful push of icy guilt trickling down onto her heart. Her hands stilled and the sopranos halted their singing. Everyone looked at Miranda expectantly and she had to force a few blinks to snap out of her rigid state.

"Right. Well. That left a lot to be desired," she sniffed, trying to get her raging heartbeat under control. "We'll move on to the tenors."

* * *

As soon as rehearsal time was up, the singers watched Miranda practically storm out of the auditorium, fur coat flowing behind her as she sped through the door.

"What was that all about?" Lily asked her friends, as they cleaned up and got ready to leave.

"Dude, the Ice Queen certainly has issues." Nate joked while throwing his arms across Lily's and Andy's shoulders.

The journalist shrugged him off and scolded, "Don't call her that, Nate." Grabbing her bag and jacket she walked toward the door.

"Hey Andy, wait! I was just joking. Come on!" He jogged after her and tried to drape his arm around her neck.

She twisted herself free from it again and spun on her heels. "Nate, please stop doing that."

Andy felt annoyed at him for insulting Miranda, but she knew that he had no idea about her tragic past. Now he looked at her with a confused and hurt expression and she regretted her harshness.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, studying the shiny tiles of the hallway floor. "You just shouldn't be tough on Miranda, okay? She knows what she's doing."

Nate held up his palms in disbelief. "Andy, I was just joking. You know that, right? I get that she knows her stuff." He reached up to comb his fingers through his dark curls and sighed. "I was just having fun." He sported a goofy pout and Andy felt her lips involuntarily twitch at how ridiculous he looked.

"Okay, okay! Stop pulling that mutated version of a puppy's face already! I'm not mad." She punched him in the shoulder and gave a half-hearted giggle.

"Ha! My charm saved the day!" He grinned and rubbed his shoulder where the brunette had just driven her fist into it rather forcefully.

Douglas and Lily had caught up to them by then and together they stepped into the elevator.

"So, now what? I know it's not Friday, but do you guys still want to go out?" Lily asked as the car descended down to the ground floor.

Andy glanced over at Doug. "I'm not sure. I need to get up early tomorrow to catch my flight to Ohio. I'm sure mom would not appreciate me showing up with a giant hangover."

Douglas nodded. "Yeah, count me out as well."

"You guys are so lame!" Lily scoffed.

"Maybe they just can't face another defeat at karaoke," Nate mocked with a wide grin, which quickly narrowed as soon as he saw Andy's drawn brows. "But hey, it's cool. Lily and I will just go alone." He slung his arm around Lily's waist and she gave him a high five.

"You betcha!"

Douglas raised his eyebrows at Andy who could only shrug. She had better things to do than strain her voice at a badly ventilated bar and she kind of wanted to avoid Nate before she hurt his feelings even more.

They stepped out of the community centre and into the early night where the two party beasts said their goodbyes. Andy and Doug shook their heads and headed toward the nearest subway.

"So," her friend began. "You sounded really beautiful tonight, Andy."

Andy felt her cheeks flush against the cold wind. "Thanks Dougie. I kind of had some help, though."

He turned his head, "Huh? What do you mean? You think Emily carried you through it? She's got nothing on you, Dear."

The brunette gave him a sweet smile. "No, I meant... well, on Sunday Miranda kind of helped me with my singing."

At this Doug raised an eyebrow suggestively and Andy briefly buried her face in her gloved hands.

"So when was this? Did you have a secret private lesson I don't know about?" He mocked lovingly.

"Uhm... something like that," Andy mumbled, stepping around a light pole as they approached the station entrance.

"She touched me..." she exhaled in a near whisper, looking around to be sure nobody had heard her.

Her friend threw his hands against his chest, and stopped dead on the middle of the stairs. "What? And this juicy fact only reaches me now, because...?"

Andy turned around at her friend and shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry, I was too overwhelmed... and I wasn't really sure it had actually happened."

Doug stepped out of the way of a stream of annoyed New Yorkers and pulled Andy close. "Sweetie, it's okay. I can see how that would confuse you."

They continued down onto the platform and waited for their train.

"So she touched you, huh?" Doug poked her in the side and gave a conspiratory grin.

Andy nodded. "Yes. Here." She placed her hands on her belly on top of her jacket and couldn't help but beam at her friend.

"Well, I can see where certain dreams have their origin," he grinned, taking his shoulder bag down and in front of him in preparation for the approaching train.

"Well, it really helped my voice." Andy giggled embarrassed. "I never realized how much better I could sing with such few changes."

They stepped into the train and took two adjoining seats.

"So... this sounds like a serious crush you have there." He said softly once the subway had started to move again.

Andy nodded and recalled her discovery of the previous day, the sadness about Miranda's painful history still lingering in her heart.

"Something is just pulling me to her." She sighed and lay her head on her friend's shoulder. "I have no clue what, but it's definitively there."

Douglas reached up and patted her hair. "Aww, my little Andy-kins finally found her special someone."

The brunette tickled his side and they giggled in unison as he squirmed under the wriggly fingers. A few people were shooting them displeased looks at the disturbance but Andy thought they should just quit being grumpy and start getting into the Holiday Spirit.

The two friends sat in silence for a while, watching the stops sweep by and flocks of people getting on and off the train. When Andy's station approached she pressed a light kiss to Doug's cheek. "Happy Thanksgiving, Dougie. Say hi to your folks!"

He squeezed her. "You too, Pumpkin. See you on Sunday."

With a final wave Andy stepped off the train and made her way home.

* * *

Her foot pressed all the way down on the gas as her silver _Porsche Roadster_ easily slipped past the other traffic and Miranda knew she'd never get stopped for speeding this close to the Hamptons. _Sometimes there were privileges to being so rich,_ she thought as she pressed on through the early afternoon.

She was aware that her games with death would need to stop if she truly wanted another shot at this life and she slowly released the pedal and watched the needle of the speedometer move back toward the hundred mph. Her therapist had insisted on Miranda buying a different car to prevent more irrational behavior, but being as stubborn as every other Priestly in her family, she had refused, determined to get her urges under control all on her own. How could she finally move on if she just took the easy way out?

Keeping the car a bit closer to the speed limit she passed the 'Welcome to Southampton!' sign and continued the few miles to her parents' estate. She drove through the gate and parked next to the fountain in front of the driveway. She remained in the seat for a while, after having turned off the engine, and simply stared ahead at the large front door. The holidays were always hard, but this one was special, because for the first time in nearly five years, she would try to make it count.

With a deep, forceful sigh she removed her leather gloves and grabbed her purse.

Still feeling like a guest, rather than an occasional inhabitant, she rang the doorbell instead of using her key. The housekeeper opened with a friendly greeting and took her coat.

"Your parents are in the sitting room, Ms. Miranda."

She nodded her acknowledgement and walked through the large downstairs hall into one of the adjoining rooms.

"You're early, Dear. You didn't speed again, did you?" her mother spoke as she rose to hug Miranda.

"No, mother, of course not." The conductor could never lie to the older woman so she was aware of her caught lie and her mother's arms tightened a bit more around her.

"The first course of dinner will be ready in just a few minutes," Mrs. Priestly said as she pulled away, studying her daughter thoughtfully.

Mr. Priestly stepped closer and leaned over to embrace Miranda as well. "Hello, darling. Caroline will be happy to see you."

"Yes. Where is she? Upstairs?" she asked, looking from her mother to her father.

"I'm right here," a soft voice came from behind her and Miranda slowly turned around.

Sitting up straight in her wheelchair, Caroline gave her mother a hesitant smile from the doorway.

Before she could fall back into her usual post-accident, icy self, Miranda quickly moved forward and bent down to envelope her daughter in a loving embrace.

"Oh darling, I'm so happy to see you."

She felt Caroline's arms tighten around her back and the girl mumbled into her neck. "Hi Mommy..."

"So," the conductor inquired as she pulled away. "How do you feel? Any pain from the operation?"

Caroline nodded her strawberry blond head, but gave a brave smile. "It hurts a bit when I move but I think it's just the general soreness of the incision."

Miranda gently cupped her daughter's freckled face, and traced her thumb sweetly over the jaw bone. "I'm so proud of you."

She knew it was uncharacteristic for her to be so affectionate with Caroline, but part of her therapy and road to full recovery was to embrace what she had and let go of what she had lost. The best place to start was Caroline, and Miranda's heart felt heavy with guilt at the way she had neglected her surviving daughter when she had fallen into depression.

That would definitively end today. She placed a kiss on the girl's forehead and stepped behind the wheelchair.

"Come on. Let's go see what strange potions Xavier is passing off as soup today," she said and the girl giggled.

She pushed Caroline into the dining room where they found the large wooden table set and beautifully decorated in autumn colours and leaves.

"Mother, where is Caroline supposed to sit?" Miranda asked when she realized there was none of the usual chair-less spot for her daughter to be rolled into. She sent a questioning look at her mother who had followed them through the doorway.

Miranda suddenly felt the wheelchair shift under her hands and to her utter shock, she watched as Caroline pushed herself up.

"Bobbsey, what are you doing?" She immediately rushed forward to support the girl.

"No, mom. Let me, please!"

Anxiously Miranda watched as her daughter straightened fully into a standing position and put a hand against the backrest of the dining chair in front of her. The teenager pulled it out and then, with the extreme effort visible on her concentrated face, she slowly moved her right foot forward.

The white-haired conductor felt the burning of tears in her eyes as she watched her daughter take slow, wobbly steps and lower herself onto the chair, all by herself. Her heart clenched when Caroline turned her head upward and sent her an exhausted but wide and utterly radiant smile.

Raising trembling fingers to her mouth Miranda let out a sob and leaned over to hug the girl tightly.

"Oh, Sweetheart!"

The fact that the most recent operation had finally worked did not feel real yet and she clung to her daughter in complete wonder. She had not expected a result this soon. She kissed Caroline's soft hair several times before she slowly pulled away and looked at the teenager through blurry eyes.

"I'm so proud, Caroline. You are a true fighter." She said softly, taking the girl's hands in hers.

Her daughter nodded and her own tears ran freely down her flushed cheeks.

Miranda's parents had taken their seats on the opposite side of the table and Mr. Priestly carefully interrupted his daughter and grand-daughter, emotion evident in his voice.

"Mira, you may sit down. The soup is ready to be served."

Mrs. Priestly looked at the two across the table through glassy eyes of her own and gave her daughter a hopeful smile.

Placing one last, tiny kiss on Caroline's nose, the conductor moved away and settled down in the chair next to her daughter when the housekeeper walked in with steaming plates.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Mom!" The teenager smiled at her mother.

"Happy Thanksgiving to you, too, my Darling," Miranda spoke softly with a gentle squeeze to Caroline's hand.

_To be continued..._

_

* * *

_

**Lyric translation:**

Rachmaninov's Hail Mary:

O Virgin Theotokos, rejoice.  
Mary full of grace, the Lord is with Thee.  
Blessed art Thou among women,  
and blessed is the Fruit of Thy womb,  
for Thou hast borne the Savior of souls.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** After all the tears from the previous chapter, I thought that some fluffiness was in order. ^_^  


* * *

  
**Chapter 4**

It was the Friday before Christmas and Andy walked to rehearsal with a slight spring in her step. She grinned and basked in the knowledge that in a few minutes she'd be around Miranda again. In the three weeks since Thanksgiving her slight crush had quickly developed into something more substantial, and although the conductor was as harsh and distant toward the choir as ever, Andy felt herself completely enthralled by the older woman.

Pulling her over-sized, green beanie lower and snuggling into her red and white striped scarf, she hurried through the throng of Christmas shoppers toward the community centre. It was particularly cold and windy today and Andy was glad she had chosen her warm, woolen, felt coat with the fur-lined sleeves and high collar. There was just something oddly reassuring about challenging the harsh winter weather, wearing warm and protective clothes. _And having warm thoughts,_ Andy smiled at herself.

The smell of cinnamon and eggnog lattes wafted from the _Starbucks_, where she had so fatefully bumped into the white-haired object of her romantic desires just a few weeks ago, and Andy's usual giddy holiday excitement was now amplified by the steady current of warm fuzziness rushing through her veins, whenever she thought of Miranda.

She breathed into her candy-cane patterned gloves for warmth and was about to walk up the small flight of steps to the entrance of the centre when a few choir members spilled through the door and blocked her path, their faces showing disappointment and annoyance.

"Hey guys, what's up? Why aren't you inside?"

Douglas, who had come outside with the group, shrugged his shoulders and greeted his friend with a brief hug.

"Mr. Ravitz has closed the auditorium for renovations over the holidays, but he failed to notify Miranda and now we have nowhere to rehearse."

The brunette's eyes went wide and her jaw dropped at the absurdity of the actions of that man. She knew that the director of the community centre wanted to get rid of the choir, but this was bordering on sabotage. He had, after all, given them until the end of the year to hold a successful public performance, and now he was trying to interfere with their final, and most important rehearsals.

Andy was fuming. Her glove-covered hands rolled into fists and she clenched her jaw as she looked up the building to the office of Irv Ravitz. Her protectiveness of Miranda kicked in and she knew the older woman would be immensely displeased.

"Where's Miranda? Does she know yet?"

Douglas nodded. "Yeah, she just found out, and she was frighteningly calm about it all. Just walked away talking on her cellphone and ordered us to wait outside the building."

Scratching her head Andy looked around and noticed more singers arriving and joining their group in front of the centre. A low murmur of speculative whispers went through the small crowd until suddenly a bus stopped beside them on the street, just as Miranda swept out of the building with a frantic looking Emily on her heels.

"Don't just stand there. Get on the bus already," she said in her usual soft tone.

The bus door opened and the perplexed choir members were hesitant to step aboard until Emily hissed at them to 'get a move on'.

It was a smaller coach and the amount of seats exactly fit the number of choir members so Andy quickly dove into the seat next to Doug in the second row so they could sit together. Her friend grinned and Andy felt like she was on a school field trip.

Miranda was the last one to step aboard the vehicle and she elegantly slid into the seat next to Emily in the first row, right in front of Andy.

The brunette's breath caught as a subtle wave of Miranda's distinctive perfume wafted back at her and she stared at the soft, silver locks and slender neck so close to her face. The conductor's hoop earrings jiggled softly as she leaned forward to instruct the driver about their destination and Andy felt her abdomen contract when she watched an elegant hand run absentmindedly through the shorter hair on the back of the older woman's head.

"Hey, breathe," Doug whispered in her ear and Andy threw herself against the backrest and pulled the hat down over her eyes with an embarrassed smirk.

The bus pulled into evening traffic and Andy peeked from under the green wool of her floppy hat. Not-amused blue eyes were pinning her to the seat as Miranda fully rose and turned around. Gaze not leaving the violently blushing brunette, the older woman addressed the choir.

"We're going to a different location for rehearsal. We will arrive there in half an hour, so spend the travel time going over your music." She raised an eyebrow pointedly at Andy. "And don't waste it with childish games."

The brunette could not resist the urge to hide and pulled her hat back down at the scrutiny. A few seconds later she lifted the edge slowly to peek if Miranda was still looking, which of course she was.

"Really, Andrea. How old were you again?" Miranda spoke softly.

Andy could have sworn there was a slight twitch to the older woman's lips, but she must have imagined that. Before she could fully lift the wool from her eyes the conductor had already turned around again and Andy stared dumbstruck at the white hair in front of her.

Doug's blank expression was absolutely no help either, so Andy let out a quiet sigh and pulled out the sheet music. She spent the next few minutes secretly peeking over the edge of the papers to watch Miranda.

She knew she was completely struck down with affection for the older woman and it surprised her how quickly she had come to accept these feelings. Granted, there had been occasional crushes on female teachers and movie stars in her past, but Andy had never really taken it serious until now. The way Andy's heart glowed when it came to Miranda, was overwhelming and raw, and she had absolutely no doubt that it was real attraction.

The journalist had no idea if that meant she was gay, but she knew she had never felt such an abundance of emotion for anyone else before. There was no way, in heaven or hell, that the older woman would ever return those feelings. So for now, Andy was content with just admiring her from afar. Warmth rose up her neck and she could feel it wrap around her ears. Getting too hot she removed her hat and scarf and gently shook out her brown locks.

Doug dropped a note on her lap and quickly turned to look out of the window when Andy unfolded the crumbled-up paper and read the neatly written text.

_No fair! My Piano Man is nowhere to be found and you're THIS close to the Snow Queen. I demand a consolation drink later!  
PS: You're drooling. :-P_

Not able to suppress a giggle, Andy held the paper to her heart and leaned over to her friend to press a big, wet kiss on his cheek.

"Ewww! Get a bloody room, you two," Emily scoffed at them as she turned around. From the corner of her eye, Andy saw Miranda briefly glance over as well but then quickly face the front again.

"You're just jealous because no hot chicks are kissing _you_, Em." Doug mocked.

"Shut the hell up," the redhead hissed and slammed herself back into the seat, crossing her arms.

"Don't be mean, Dougie," Andy said softly, knowing full well how their little theatrics would anger Miranda.

She could tell from the way the older woman's shoulders were tensing that she was indeed not pleased.

"Children, will you settle down or should I start giving out detention?" The conductor spoke dryly without looking at either of them.

Andy giggled as both Doug and Emily hung their heads in shame.

"I mean you as well... _Ann-dray-ah_..." Miranda slowly rolled each syllable off her tongue.

"Yes, Miranda," the brunette whispered while pulling her over-sized hat back on her head and down over her face.

When the older woman usually said her name it already sent shivers down her spine, however this time it sounded extra sensual and Andy feared she might implode from the storm of raging hormones in her body. She spent the rest of the ride staring at the ceiling light of the coach and listening to the soft mumble of voices round her.

* * *

The old theatre still smelled exactly the way Miranda remembered and she walked down the aisle between the rows of red velvet seats in restrained awe. This is where her love for music had begun when she was eight, sitting in the front row and listening to her mother sing the most beautiful arias. Now the theatre was no longer used for concerts, but the owner was an old family friend and after just a short phone call he had readily offered the place to Miranda and her choir. It wasn't the cleanest but it still had a lot of its old charm and the acoustics were brilliant.

"Wow, this is beautiful," Andrea whispered as she stood next to her. With brown eyes reflecting the dozen light bulbs from the large, central chandelier, the brunette looked up at the stuccoed ceiling and absentmindedly removed that _silly, green hat_. Watching a gentle smile ghost over the younger woman's lips, Miranda felt a familiar warmth surge through her chest, and her fingers twitched at the urge of brushing a stray lock of hair from Andrea's face.

Miranda knew she was overwhelmingly drawn to the brunette. There was just something about the way Andrea's eyes lit up when she sang, or when she discovered something new and beautiful, such as this old theatre.

The sensations in her body caused Miranda to stiffen. She would not allow herself to stray again, and to lose sight of what was important. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Go clear the stage. We can't set up with all those old props," she ordered evenly and Andrea nodded and called over a few others to help move the heavy objects.

The conductor slipped out of her fitted trench coat and rolled up the sleeves of her white sweater. She could not resist watching Andrea interact with her friends as they carried a large table to the side.

The brunette seemed very close with the tenor, Douglas, and they had just shared an intimate moment in the bus after all. Miranda wondered whether they were a couple. The young man seemed very sweet and he possessed a heavenly voice, but the conductor felt a twinge when Andrea laughed at something funny Douglas had just said.

_Don't be ridiculous,_ she scolded silently. Even if she were honest with herself and admitted her budding feelings for the younger woman, with all her childish jokes and the ridiculous hats and scarves, she'd still never act on them.

Rubbing at the tense muscles at the back of her neck, Miranda sighed and shook her head. It wasn't as if she actually stood a chance with someone so young and beautiful, but the main reason was that she had made a promise to herself to never get blinded by her own desires, ever again. She needed to get this under control.

"Time to begin," she said while striding on stage and walking toward the grand piano in the left corner.

* * *

Andy's heart skipped a beat when she watched Miranda sit down behind the large instrument and lift the cover off the keys.

Surely she wasn't going to play? Nigel was absent today, that was true, but it hadn't even crossed Andy's mind that the conductor would just take his place.

"We'll begin with the second piece today," Miranda instructed and Emily shuffled to the front with a wide grin as the rest of the choir stood in position. As much as she was annoyed by the red-haired Brit, Andy had to admit this particular song suited her and it apparently held a special meaning for Emily.

Miranda began playing the intro and Andy's eyes were immediately drawn to the slender hands brushing over the keys. It was a good thing that Emily had to sing first, because the journalist was certain she wouldn't find her own voice. She was too overwhelmed with adoration at how elegantly the older woman moved behind the piano. The slim wrists were perfectly still as she let her fingertips wander over the notes and Andy had to swallow hard to block out images of those hands tenderly caressing her cheeks.

_"We're walking in the air..."_ Emily's clear voice disrupted Andy's daydreams.

_"We're floating in the moon-lit sky... The people far below, are sleeping as we fly..."_

The conductor nodded her head to indicate the women, and a bit later, the men to jump in and they continued together in cascading harmonies.

_"We're holding very tight, I'm riding in the midnight blue... I'm finding I can fly so high above with you..."_

Andy's heart glowed as she watched Miranda give shape to the beautiful instrumental bridge, the notes rolling down like melting droplets off glistening icicles.

_"Far across the world, the villages go by like dreams..."_

The brunette closed her eyes and pictured the landscape as it drew past below her.

_"The rivers and the hills, the forests and the streams..."_

All their voices sounded beautiful together and the warm sound vibrating through the large room wrapped itself around her body and carried Andy higher into the imagery of the song. She felt like the little boy who looked down on the world in wonder and amazement, and had the pleasure of experiencing the beauty of the winter night, flying through the sky. All the while, the softness of the piano caressed her very core, knowing that it was Miranda who was producing that sweet sound, and the brunette felt her eyes water.

When the song was over, the theatre remained completely still. Everyone seemed to be in awe at the magic they could produce together and Andy gingerly wiped the wet traces from her cheeks.

After a while the conductor said evenly, "Well, that wasn't too awful."

* * *

At the end of rehearsal Miranda was left with a tempest of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, she was pleasantly surprised at the long way the young men and women had come in just a month's time. Each and every one of them had improved and they had learned to sing together and listen to each other. They sounded good, and were confident enough to shine on Christmas Eve and not embarrass her as their conductor and director.

On the other hand, though, their bright and shiny underdog soprano, Andrea, had just sung her first solo and had mastered it so beautifully, that it had taken a lot of strength from Miranda to keep playing the accompanying piano notes. She had refused to look at the brunette and had tried to concentrate on the technicalities of her performance instead. However it had been very difficult to stop picturing Andrea in her mind, with those deep, chestnut eyes and full lips, so perfectly articulating each syllable.

The conductor slowly rubbed her temples as she followed the choir members back outside to wait for the bus.

It was nearly eleven at night and the wind felt particularly icy. She folded up the collar of her thin coat and internally cursed her choice of attire. She liked wearing different ensembles every day, and when she had left her apartment earlier she had not bet on standing on the freezing sidewalk an hour away from midnight, waiting for a bus to pick her up.

The singers were all huddling by the entrance door which had just been locked by the theatre's landlord. The old man had been gracious enough to wait for them to finish rehearsal and Miranda had thought it rude to ask him to also wait for the bus. Of course now she regretted that decision.

"Emily," she called out over the howling wind. "Why is the bus not here? I told you to call the driver over ten minutes ago."

"Sorry Miranda, I spoke to him and he said he'd be here in five minutes. I don't understand what's taking him so long..." Emily stammered.

"Tales of your incompetence do not interest me," Miranda said as icily as she felt, and flicked her hand out at the redhead.

"Well, go. Call again. He's not being paid to leisurely cruise around the city," she hissed and watched Emily hurry away with her cellphone in hand.

Miranda sighed and looked up at the night sky. The crisp air, and the small amount of streetlights in this older neighbourhood, allowed for the stars to shine brighter than in downtown Manhattan. The sight made the conductor feel small and humbled, and also strangely content. It made her feel alive.

She glanced over at the group of young singers and her eyes immediately found their usual target standing between Douglas and the curly-haired bass boy. With her silly, large Christmas hat, striped scarf and matching gloves, and that sickeningly happy glow about her. Something inside Miranda longed to reach out to Andrea, to somehow have some of that warm contentment rub off on her.

Throwing her head back in a hearty laugh, the brunette looked like a jolly woodland creature, her big eyes sparkling from the headlights of passing cars. Miranda felt her heart clench at the sight. She wanted to be the cause of such laughter. She wanted to make Andrea throw her head back for her, and not just in laughter, but also in passionate ecstasy.

_Oh god,_ she chided herself. _Would you stop it!_

She would not let herself stray from the path again. Not even for someone as obviously sweet and kind as Andrea. She knew that this time it went far deeper than a simple physical attraction, but she wasn't willing to even take the chance. Too much was at stake, and most importantly, she did not deserve that kind of happiness.

She shivered and raised her shoulders in an attempt to minimise the areas where the cold air could crawl under her coat. Sliding her arms around her middle didn't add any warmth and she turned her back toward the wind to at least keep her face from freezing.

In a way she welcomed the iciness creeping up her bones. It kept her grounded, and her mind clear. It made her remember her place and her past, forcing all pleasant thoughts of the brunette from her mind. The wind cut at her with sharp little knives and she felt herself tremble in a wave of involuntary shivers.

Yes. Cold was good.

When she closed her eyes she could picture herself naked under the starry sky, as the harsh night judged her and her ridiculous feelings. It felt like a deserved punishment to stand by herself, away from the crowd of cheerful people, in the merciless wind, alone with her ever lingering sorrow.

* * *

As Andy stood chatting with her friends, her eyes never left Miranda. The older woman hovered near the curb by herself, huddling into her far too thin trench coat, and the wind was playfully whipping her silver locks around her face. The silent dance of soft hair around perfect features enthralled the brunette so much that she completely missed what Nate was saying.

"... am I right?" Her friend was looking at her expectantly.

"Huh? Sorry, Nate. What did you say?" She faced him but still kept the older woman in the corner of her eye. Something seemed off.

"I said, you totally kicked Emily's butt with your solo tonight! And that you will completely rule the concert on Monday." He gave her a wide, hopeful grin.

"Well, we'll see about that," Andy replied absentmindedly and quickly flicked her eyes back at Miranda as she noticed the conductor staring up at the sky. Something was wrong, she could feel it. The older woman looked lost, and totally unlike her poised, confident self.

The conductor then turned her head directly at them and Andy, afraid to have been caught staring, quickly offered a goofy grin to Nate.

"Ah look at you, Miss Diva. Humble as a nun!" Nate joked and Andy hid her uneasiness about Miranda looking at them by throwing her head back in a full, but faked laugh.

She didn't dare look over, too afraid she'd get pinned down by a pair of stern, blue eyes. Instead she pretended to be having fun with her friends. She still had no idea what they were saying to her, though. The feeling that something wasn't right with Miranda kept nagging at her.

Her peripheral vision alerted her that the conductor had turned her back to them, and Andy watched the older woman pull up her shoulders to shield her bare neck from the biting winds. Something inside the journalist broke.

"Sorry guys, excuse me for a moment?"

She slowly walked over to Miranda, unsure about what exactly she should do. Maybe following her impulses wasn't the smartest idea she'd had in a while. She came to a stop directly behind the conductor, nearly feeling the violent shudders, that were shaking the older woman's body, reaching out toward her.

_Holy crap!_ Andy thought. _Miranda is totally freezing!_

* * *

Suddenly the cold wind was gone.

Miranda fluttered her eyes open to verify that she was indeed still on the street. Through the thin fabric of her coat she could sense a pulsing warmth and it was faint, but it was there. Building up some courage Miranda hesitantly turned around.

Staring back at her with insecure, but honest eyes was Andrea, standing so close that she acted as a windbreaker, shielding Miranda from the icy night.

Completely speechless, she just studied the brunette as a shy smile danced across those full lips.

"Are you alright, Miranda?"

It was a question she had heard countless times over the past five years, and they had always pissed her off. However now, the words, uttered so softly by this woman who seemed to carry the sun inside her very soul, reached out to the conductor and pulled her back to earth and toward warmth.

"You look cold." Andrea's eyes dropped to where Miranda's hands were clamping at the collar of her trench coat.

"Here," the brunette said so softly that, if it hadn't been for those beautiful lips moving, Miranda could have sworn she'd been imagining it.

Time seemed to slow as she watched the younger woman reach up and uncurl the red and white scarf from her neck and gently drape it around Miranda. Andrea's warmth and sweet scent still lingered in the soft wool and the older woman felt her cheeks flush at how careful the brunette was when she tied a lose knot under Miranda's chin.

It seemed as if Miranda had somehow travelled from a cold, lonely place to this heaven of radiant affection in a matter of seconds and she had no idea what to do next.

"Better?"

There was something so full and alive in Andrea's gaze. It wasn't pity. Maybe it was compassion, or concern. Miranda wasn't sure.

She subconsciously touched her cold fingers to the scarf now lining her neck, as if uncertain whether it was really there, and she felt herself slowly fall into the dark mocha pools gazing at her so intently. She couldn't even nod, or whisper a 'thank you'.

The sorrow in the back of her mind was crying out, seeking punishment for Miranda allowing herself to get drawn into this moment, but its voice was overpowered by the loud thumping of the blood rushing through her ears.

This was new. This wasn't like before.

Her eyes were lured by a pink tongue peeking out to wet luscious lips and she could swear her pulse was sprinting a marathon by now. The cold was forgotten and the harsh December night had turned into a warm spring morning.

A few strands of chocolate brown hair were framing the younger woman's features under the green hat, which Miranda had to admit now, was nothing short of extremely adorable. Andrea's eyes seemed to glow, as if they were somehow trying to speak to her and their gazes remained locked for what seemed like an eternity.

The hesitant clearing of a throat startled them apart and Emily's unhappy head peeked at them from out of the bus.

"Are you two coming?"

The conductor blinked a few times and she saw the brunette do the same. When had the bus arrived? When had everyone stepped aboard? Deeply inhaling a large gulp of air through her nostrils, Miranda tried to shake herself back into the present.

There was another sweet smile on Andrea's lips as she spoke, "Come on. Let's go."

The older woman could only nod and followed the journalist onto the bus.

* * *

To be continued...**  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

It was Sunday night and Andy had worked most of the weekend in order to get Christmas off. It would be her first Holidays on her own, her parents having finally booked that trip to Europe they had been dreaming about forever, and Andy did not want to spend most of the time in the office on top of everything else. She was a Christmas person, and at least Doug had invited her over to his folks so she'd still be around people she loved.

Drying her freshly showered hair she padded into the living room and turned on the TV where a tiny Macaulay Culkin was climbing up a bookshelf to steal his brother's money. _Home Alone. How fitting,_ she thought while sitting on the couch to pull up her striped Christmas stockings in all their cheesy red and white glory. She wriggled her toes and knew she must be looking ridiculous in her red pyjama shorts and her large, white Rudolph hoodie.

But it was nearly Christmas and she was alone, so she could run around her tiny, but warm apartment however she liked. She settled into the soft pillows and pulled up a blanket. Andy was kind of disappointed that she had missed choir practice on the last day before their first concert, but the price for being a budding journalist was that she had to work strange hours. At least it meant she'd have Monday off as well.

The phone rang and she blindly reached for it on the side table behind her.

"Hello?"

"Hi Sweetie!" Her mother's warm voice greeted her cheerily.

"Hi mom, all packed yet?" She snuggled back under the blanket and kept her eyes on the little boy spooking around the large house on TV.

"Almost. Your dad is a bad packer, I had to redo his entire suitcase." Andy chuckled. It was her parents' very first trip outside the continent and both of them were nervous.

"You guys are going to love Paris, I promise." She smiled into the phone, picturing her mother's excited face.

"Yes, I know, Sweetie." Mrs. Sachs paused for a while before she continued. "So, are you going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine, mom." Andy said convincingly. And she _was_ going to be fine. She knew that. She wasn't a little girl anymore who needed her parents around for everything. She was twenty-six, and spending the Holidays on your own was part of being an adult. "I'll be with Doug on Christmas Day."

"I'm sorry we can't be there for your big day tomorrow," her mom said apologetically. "We know it means a lot to you."

"That's alright, mom. The way it goes now, there will be more concerts in the future." The thought of working on more songs with Miranda put a dreamy smile on Andy's face.

"You sound different, Sweetie." Her mom said suddenly.

"What? How do you mean, mom? I don't have a cold or anything. Thank god, might I add, I have to sing tomorrow!" Andy giggled.

"No I meant... you sound... Andy, have you met a boy?" Mrs. Sachs probed.

The journalist's giggle got stuck in her throat. "Uhm... no mom. I have not _met a boy_." She rolled her eyes, feeling a bit disappointed that despite not seeing her mother for Christmas, she'd still receive this year's _'have you met a man yet, Andy?'_-speech.

"A... a girl then?" Her mother's voice was so soft that Andy nearly didn't hear it and it took a while for the words to sink in.

"Wh-what? Uhm... mom, why would you even ask that?" she stammered.

There was a moment of silence and Andy wondered whether her mother had actually hung up.

"Mom?"

"Oh Sweetie, I just wanted you to know that your dad and I would be... okay with... you know... in case." Mrs. Sachs' voice was careful but warm and Andy exhaled in relief. "And you do sound kind of... happy... or... excited. I'm sorry, Sweetie, maybe it's just your big concert tomorrow."

"Mom, it's alright..." Andy hesitated and wondered if she should tell her parents about her crush on the incredibly beautiful but unreachable conductor, but then decided against it. What would be the point?

"Thanks, mom. I will tell you guys when I think I've met... someone, okay?"

"Alright, Sweetie. That means a lot."

The doorbell rang and Andy had to double-check that it wasn't on TV. Who would come by this late on a Sunday?

"Hold on, mom. There's someone at the door." She untangled herself from the blanket and padded into the hallway with the phone in her hand.

She called out. "Who is it?"

There was no reply and Andy tiptoed the last bit toward the door. She spied through the small hole and her heart rate increased drastically.

_"Shit!"_ She hissed in a whisper as she looked down at her attire. _"Shit, shit, shit..."_

The bell rang again and Andy took a deep breath to calm her nerves. What was the worst that could happen? She reached for the doorknob and turned it to slowly open the door.

"Miranda. What are you doing here?" She said in as steady a voice as she could muster.

The conductor froze at the sight of her, and Andy was suddenly horribly aware of how skimpy her pants were and that her damp hair was curling slightly and probably made her look like a wet poodle.

Miranda opened her mouth as if to say something, but no sound came out and she just slowly looked her up and down, the gaze leaving hot trails on Andy's body.

"Please. Come inside," the brunette offered with a tilt of her head and led the older woman into the hallway and then closed the door behind them.

"I'll be right with you, Miranda. Please excuse me," she said while holding up the phone and then turned away.

"Mom? Yes... it's just our choral director... yes, I will. Okay... you and dad have fun! I will speak to you when you get back. Yes, I promise. Love you too. Bye." She hung up and faced the older woman.

"Sorry about that, Miranda. My parents are flying out to Paris tomorrow morning and I wanted to say goodbye," she rambled as her fingers nervously played with the phone.

"So, what can I do for you?" She sent a shy smile at the silver-haired woman who had still not spoken and looked rather lost standing in Andy's tiny hallway with her thick, black fur coat and four inch heels. _At least she can't be cold now,_ Andy thought.

"You weren't at rehearsal this afternoon."

Miranda's voice was low and accusative and Andy heard a tiny tremor through it.

"Yes, I had to work so that I could be at the concert tomorrow. I'm sorry, I thought Doug would have told you."

Dark blue eyes narrowed at her and the conductor pursed her lips.

"Well. Douglas did no such thing."

Andy's heart leaped in her chest. What was this about? Did Miranda come here to tell her off about missing rehearsal?

The older woman was fidgeting with her purse, eyes cast to the floor. In the halogen-lit hallway some of the worry lines around her eyes were a bit more prominent, but the journalist still thought that Miranda was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

"The next time you feel like skipping rehearsal, I would appreciate it if you let me know," Miranda said icily, but Andy heard the soft thread of insecurity running through it.

She stepped closer to the conductor, who was clearly upset about something, but tried to hide it behind her steely facade.

"I should go." Miranda turned around and her hand flew to the doorknob.

"Wait!" Andy squeaked and flinched at her own sound. "Wait. Please."

She padded closer on her socks, until she stood right behind the conductor, inhaling her familiar scent and revelling in the sensations her body was experiencing at the close proximity to the older woman.

"Miranda, why did you come here?" she tried, keeping her voice calm and warm.

For a while the conductor just stood there, hand still on the door, seemingly fighting an internal battle about whether she should stay or go. Then, after what seemed like minutes, she softly spoke.

"Emily said you might have bailed. 'Chickened out of your performance tomorrow', as she put it." Miranda paused and it gave Andy a moment to process the information. So Emily had tried to sabotage her by telling Miranda she had run off and quit the choir? How dare she? And the older woman had come here to directly confront Andy.

The thought that the conductor cared enough to find out where Andy lived and to talk to her in person warmed the brunette's heart and she reached out for Miranda's arm.

"I'll be there tomorrow. I promise, Miranda." She squeezed softly and felt the older woman stiffen under her touch. "I'm sorry that I did not let you know in person about my having to work. It was a last minute thing." Drawing up some of the courage being in her own home provided, she gently rubbed Miranda's arm through the thick coat. "I will let you know, next time."

The conductor slowly nodded her head, a stray silver strand escaping from behind her ear and falling against her forehead, where it teased Andy, silently calling out to be brushed away.

Miranda pulled at the door and was about to step through it when she halted.

"Oh," she reached into her purse and pulled out the scarf. "I haven't had a chance to get it cleaned." She handed it to Andy without looking up and the brunette took the wool between her clammy hands, fondly thinking back at their intense moment the previous Friday.

"Thank you," Miranda whispered, barely audible, and then stepped into the outer hallway and swiftly stalked away on her heels without turning around.

_Holy crap!_ Andy thought as she leaned against the closed door and slid down to the floor. That woman was driving her crazy. Wrapping the thick scarf around her neck she nuzzled the wool and deeply inhaled Miranda's lingering perfume. Andy couldn't help the large smile from spreading across her lips.

She was so completely screwed. She was so completely in love.

* * *

The church was fully packed and the loud chatter of the waiting audience travelled through the door into the small side room where the anxious choir members waited to be called out. The men were wearing black pants and red, long-sleeved shirts with black ties and the women wore matching long, red dresses. Everyone was nervous and dealt with it in their own, unique way.

Lily was dancing around, Nate was cracking lame jokes and Doug was constantly pulling at the collar of his shirt as he stood talking shyly with Nigel. The rest of the singers were an excited buzz, avidly speaking amongst each other and creating a cloud of high-strung energy in the cramped room.

Miranda was standing against the back wall in her simple, but elegant black dress, staring into space and Andy worried about the conductor. She hadn't spoken to or even looked at Andy all day and seemed withdrawn and distant. It wasn't nerves, Andy was certain of that, because she knew that this Christmas Eve was the five-year mark of the accident. It was bound to have an effect on the older woman.

The crowd outside calmed down and the local pastor began to introduce the singers.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please give a warm round of applause to the St. Matthews Community Sports and Art Centre Choir."

"Boy, we really need to find a proper name," Doug whispered to Andy as they lined up at the door. The brunette giggled nervously and nodded at her friend as the sound of clapping hands lured them outside.

The door was opened and the choir walked in neat lines onto the makeshift stage and took their position, with Miranda stepping in front of them and raising her hands. When the audience quieted down again, the conductor pulled down her fingers and the choir started to calmly sing the first notes of Rachmaninov's "Hail Mary".

The acoustics of the church were beautiful and Andy was immediately enveloped by the sound and all remaining nerves fell away. She focused on Miranda's flowing movements and let the music come directly from her heart and mingle so perfectly with the voices around her. It lulled her into a soft, warm cloud, the vibrations of their voices seeping into her body and carrying her higher.

Once they had approached the powerful crescendo and their harmonies so beautifully travelled into every last corner of the old church, Andy saw the emotion on the faces of the audience and knew that this particular song was a perfect opener. Miranda gently guided them lower, until the song ended in the quietest of all notes, echoing warmly in the otherwise completely silent building.

When they were done, a first few hesitant claps led into a thorough applause and Andy and her fellow choir mates beamed at the effect their music seemed to have on people. She looked through the rows of impressed faces and her eyes landed on the grumpy features of Irv Ravitz, who sat next to the middle aisle with his arms crossed and his lips pulled down in a dissatisfied sneer. _Perfect,_ Andy thought. They would just have to show Irv that they could not be sabotaged away so easily.

The conductor raised her hands again, calling for the attention of her singers, and they began their next piece in confidence.

Encouraged by the great audience and the awe-inspiring setting of the Gothic church building, the choir sang their next few songs beautifully, even better than at any of their rehearsals. Andy realised that this was what she loved, sharing the beauty of music with others. It made her feel warm and happy, and she kept her eyes on Miranda, who despite appearing reserved and nothing but professional, had a glimmer in her eyes.

Andy knew that somewhere inside the older woman, below the layers of ice walls and deep sorrow, slumbered an incredible passion and love, and the more glimpses Andy got of the woman behind the mask, the more she felt pulled in.

It was their second to last song, Doug's solo, and her friend stepped forward and gave the audience his charming smile as Nigel began to play the piano intro.

_"Amid the roses Mary sits, and rocks her Jesus child..."_ Doug's incredible tenor voice began as the rest of the choir sang the wordless background harmonies.

_"While amid the tree tops, sighs a breeze so warm and mild..."_ he continued, and Miranda looked pleased as she moved her hands delicately through the air to guide his tempo.

_"... And soft and swee-eetly, sings a bird upon the bow... Ahhhhhhh baby, dea-ear one,"_ his voice was wonderfully clear at the high notes and the choir's harmonies pressed it deeply into people's hearts.

_"Slu-umber now..."_ Doug's warm vibrato echoed through the high, vaulted ceiling as the choir took their turn to repeat his words.

* * *

Miranda stood in front of the choir in her typically reserved version of awe. They had completely exceeded her expectations and given shape to each and every song so amazingly, that she had nearly forgotten the significance of the date. Parts of her long dormant passion for music lurked from the forgotten corners of her heart, and for a brief moment she felt like five years ago, when she had been so fulfilled by her work.

Douglas' solo performance had been breathtaking and the audience went wild with applause. Miranda felt pride surging up and she tried hard to suppress the tiny smile gracing her lips. If the audience loved "The Virgin's Slumber Song" performed by the talented tenor, they would surely pass out from the next, and last piece. It was a typical favourite and if sung correctly, one of the most powerful Christmas carols, and the perfect song to end a concert with.

Miranda watched with slight anticipation as Andrea stepped to the front, the red dress clinging to her soft curves so sensually, her eyes radiant with passion and her beautiful smile lighting up the entire church. Her gaze met Miranda's and the conductor gave a quick nod before signaling for Nigel to begin playing.

After a short piano intro, Andrea began to softly sing.

_"O, holy night... the stars are brightly shining, it is the night, of the dear savior's birth."_

The brunette's voice was strong but sweet, and she was obviously confident with the lower notes, giving them volume and depth.

_"Long lay the world in sin and error pining. Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth."_

Miranda was completely captured by Andrea's sweet voice and the words sunk in with full force. She was not a religious woman, having questioned the existence of god from a very early age on, but that did not stop her from understanding the hope and longing for salvation in most of the Christmas lyrics.

_"A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices. For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn."_

The new beginning Miranda had been trying to find was standing right in front of her, staring straight into her eyes, and singing with so much feeling that it nearly broke her heart.

_"Fall on your knees! Oh hear the angel voices!"_

_Angel voice, indeed..._ the conductor thought as she guided the rest of the choir to their cue, in a near daze.

_"Oh night... divine, oh night... when Christ was born... Oh night... divine... "_ Miranda's heart clenched at the perfect pitch of the high note and the beauty of his young woman singing, seemingly just for her.

_"Oh night... oh night divine..."_

As Andrea went on singing, the rest of the choir backing her with harmonies that enhanced the desperation of the melody, Miranda could only focus on the brunette, and the music that bound the two of them together, like an invisible bridge that arched across the vast river of Miranda's sorrow, straight into her heart.

Her eyes began to burn but she could no longer muster her defenses to try and prevent the tears from building. She knew she should not let herself drown in adoration for this young woman, on the eve of Christmas, of all days, and guilt painfully shot through her, distorting the blissful state she was in.

Andrea and the choir ended the song in a spectacular dance of their voices and as soon as the final piano note had sounded the crowd jumped to their feet and produced a storm of applause, welling up behind Miranda like a tempestuous ocean, threatening to swallow her whole. The only thing that kept her grounded were the bright smiles on the faces of her singers. The young men and women grabbed each others' hands and bowed down in front of the cheering audience.

The conductor took a deep breath and turned around for a small bow of her own.

She felt so torn between pride, achievement, re-surging sorrow and intense guilt, old and new. Watching the excited masses before her, true appreciation colouring their features, she all of a sudden felt too exposed and her chest felt tight, making it difficult to breathe.

With one final bow and a halfhearted clap for her singers, she turned and left the podium. Her high heels carried her swiftly across the stone tiles and she ran.

* * *

Andy's heart nearly leaped from her chest as she watched Miranda run off. Most people did not seem to notice, the singers were completely wrapped up in their success as they excitedly made their way back into the side room to change. Nigel, however looked concerned and kept glancing into the direction the conductor had stormed off into.

With hands clammy from worry and the sudden shift of emotions from happy to stricken, Andy hesitantly walked away from her friends and down the back aisle to where she suspected Miranda to have disappeared to. The old church building was large enough to get lost in and the long south transept was dark with the exception of a few prayer candles.

She kept walking further into the semi darkness, and a faint sniffling sound guided her toward the large, oak confessional in the corner. One of the curtains wasn't closed properly and through the thin slid in the bottom Andy could make out Miranda's pantyhose-clad legs. _Oh my god,_ went through the brunette's head. _Miranda is crying!_

The logic-loving and analytical half of her brain screamed at her to stay far away, and that the last thing the older woman would want was a nosy, young journalist probing around her personal tragedies. However, the other half of her grey mass, the part that loved music, the one that held all the precious memories of her life, including the most recent one of watching the conductor blush so sweetly when Andy had tied that scarf around her, that part of her brain caused an ache to reach out and comfort Miranda.

Ignoring logic and reason, Andy stepped forward and before she knew it she had settled into the pastor's side of the booth and had drawn the curtain closed.

Miranda stilled and spoke with a nasal undertone, so weak from crying that Andy's heart burned with compassion, "Father, I'm not here to confess."

Suddenly the rational part of Andy's brain kicked in and caused a wave of panic to rise up inside of her. She could not possibly be sitting here, intruding on such a private moment, and in such a sacrilegious way. She was about to make a run for it, when Miranda's voice rang out again, sounding so defeated and small.

"Please. Leave me alone."

Andy knew then, that she could not leave Miranda. That, no matter the consequences, she would remain here, and try everything in her power to be there for the older woman.

"Miranda. It's me. Andy."

There was a long moment of silence, and Andy squinted through the small holes in the screen that separated them, to make sure that the conductor was still there. In the dim light she could see the contours of Miranda's silver head resting in her palms on her lap. The image of the beautiful, strong woman, so broken and devastated, lured tears from Andy's own eyes.

"Andrea. Please go," the conductor pleaded quietly.

"I c-can't..." she watched Miranda raise her head and peer in her direction. "I can't leave you alone like this."

"Don't be ridiculous, Andrea." Some of the steeliness had returned to the older woman's voice.

The brunette didn't reply and just remained still on the uncomfortable, wooden stool, and after a while Miranda gave an audible sigh and shuffled in her part of the booth, sitting up a bit straighter.

"You know about my past."

It was not a question, more of a statement, one with a slightly accusative ring to it.

Andy nodded shyly but then realized that Miranda probably could not see her so she cleared the lump from her throat and spoke softly, "Yes... well... I came across an article at the newspaper where I work..."

More silence. And then Miranda gave a soft sniff.

"So you know the official story. The tragedy of my good-for-nothing ex-husband and his love for cheap alcohol..."

The conductor paused again and Andy could see the glistening of fresh tears on the older woman's barely-lit cheeks.

"What you don't know is... why on earth I would even agree..." she sniffled and the sound of palms wiping across a wet face travelled through the confined space. "... agree to let my girls ride in a car with him in the first place. When I _knew_ it wasn't safe..."

"You see, Andrea," she gave what sounded like a mixture between a sob and a laugh, "I'm a selfish bitch, who lost sight of my duty to protect my children,... so I could indulge in meaningless, physical... pleasures." She said the last word with contempt and a fresh wave of sobs shook her body.

"While my two babies were..." she hiccuped "... fighting for their lives..." Andy's own cheeks were completely wet with tears now. "... I was in bed with another woman... clinging to a pathetic illusion of intimacy."

Andy's heart broke into a thousand pieces when she realized that Miranda blamed nobody but herself for what happened to her children. The brunette reached toward the screen and placed her palm against it, in an attempt to be closer to the other woman.

"And none of it meant anything..." Miranda whispered. "She fled from my house the minute the police officers came to the door..." Andy had to clamp a hand to her mouth in order to stifle a shocked sob. "I haven't heard from her... or seen her since."

So Miranda had been left all alone to deal with the devastating news.

"Oh god. Miranda..." the brunette whispered with a voice thick of compassion and affection.

"I don't need your pity, Andrea," the older woman spat as well as she could in her current state, before succumbing to another wave of sobs.

Andy could not stop herself as she slipped from her side of the booth, making sure that nobody was around, and then gently drew aside the curtain that hid the older woman.

With all the sincerity of her heart, she looked at Miranda and willed her to turn around.

"I'm not here to offer pity, Miranda."

Her determined voice had the required effect and the older woman moved her head and slowly raised her shiny, red-rimmed eyes to look at the brunette with an open, unguarded gaze, full of surprise and expectation.

Not trusting her voice any longer at the sight of Miranda, so raw and vulnerable, Andy slowly sunk to her knees in front of the older woman and leaned forward to tenderly wrap her arms around the slim waist, burying her face against the side of Miranda's stomach.

She felt the older woman stiffen, but Andy remained where she was and squeezed her tightly.

Very slowly Miranda placed one trembling hand on the brunette's head and the other on her shoulder and pulled her closer.

They remained this way for a while until both their sobs had subsided and their breathing had slowed. The conductor was drawing small circles on the younger woman's upper back and began playing with her hair when Andy turned her head so that it was lying on Miranda's lap.

"Get up," the older woman ordered softly, with kindness shining from her puffy eyes, and Andy complied, sheepishly straightening inside the low booth.

Miranda turned her around and pulled her down on her lap, so Andy's back could rest against the side wall and her legs were facing the curtain, which was then quietly pulled closed by the older woman.

Overcome with tenderness, Andy wrapped her arms around Miranda's shoulders and hugged her sweetly and when the conductor hugged her back the broken pieces of Andy's heart quickly began to mend. She realized that she could be there for Miranda and the older woman was letting her in.

They didn't speak, and just sat quietly in their embrace, hands softly caressing their backs through the thin fabrics of their dresses.

After a few minutes the brunette pulled away and gazed into the older woman's eyes with all the emotions that flowed inside her. Deep blue shone back at her with a new depth and Andy was so overwhelmed with affection that she hesitantly leaned down, and ever so slowly pressed her lips against Miranda's.

At first, the thin lips below hers remained still, and the brunette kept lightly but insistantly brushing against them. Then finally Miranda began kissing back, and the sweet softness of her lips trapped Andy in a state of complete wonder. Their kiss was slow and tender, a fragile moment neither of them wanted to rush. Miranda moved her hands up to Andy's head and slowly stroked through the long locks and the younger woman let her fingertips gently dance across the back of Miranda's neck.

The universe around Andy completely disappeared. She had never imagined that a kiss could be so life-altering. From now on the world was no longer the same and every single thing would need to be rediscovered, with new eyes. Miranda's lips were suddenly the centre of Andy's very existence, and they had stripped her off all reality and were now slowly beginning to build her back up.

The scent of Miranda's perfume, and the salt of their mingled tears flooded Andy's senses and she realized she wanted all of this and so much more. A sharp flash shot through her body to her very core and the sudden, boiling desire forced her to pull away. She found herself panting slightly and gazed at the equally breathless older woman through lowered eyelids.

"Andrea..." Miranda whispered.

"Miranda..." the brunette replied with a sheepish smile.

The older woman showed a timid tug on her own lips and reached up to brush a lock of hair from Andy's face.

"If you don't have any plans tomorrow, would you like to have Christmas dinner with me and my family?" she asked in a shy manner that looked alien on the normally determined and self-assured features of Miranda Priestly.

Andy raised her hand and tenderly tucked a silver lock behind the conductor's ear.

"Yes. I would like that."

Both their smiles widened and Andy leaned in to kiss Miranda's smooth forehead.

Suddenly a pair of hesitant footsteps alerted them that they were no longer alone.

"Miranda? Little Sparrow?"

With a final caressing finger to the older woman's cheek, Andy stood and stepped through the curtain.

"Hey Nigel. We're here... and we're okay." She reassured him with a sincere smile, and after he had looked behind her and spotted the emerging conductor, he nodded his head and motioned toward Doug who was standing a few feet away, looking worried.

"The choir is going out for drinks, would you like to join us?" The pianist gazed thoughtfully from Andy to Miranda as the two women exchanged a look and then nodded.

"Yes, sure, Nigel. Sounds like fun," the brunette spoke. "Give us a minute to straighten up, okay?"

The bald man raised his eyebrows but gave a gentle smile.

"Okay, see you out front," he said as he walked back to Doug, and the two disappeared around the corner to the now empty main area of the building.

Andy turned toward Miranda. "Come on, let's get to our purses. I have some wet wipes to get rid of the_pretty_ mascara stains."

The older woman gazed at her silently before stepping closer and pulling Andy in for another embrace, their bodies pressing against each other along their entire lengths. The sensation made the brunette's nerve endings buzz with warmth but she knew that now was not the time to give in to her desires, so she pulled away and let Miranda kiss her sweetly but briefly on the lips.

"Thank you," the conductor whispered softly. Her eyes still held some sadness, but now they also showed a new glimmer of life.

Andy was sure that Miranda still needed time to deal with her guilt before anything further could happen between them, but at least now she had somebody she could talk to and trust, and she had opened up and was about to let Andy into her life.

As they walked through the now empty church into the small side room to fix their makeup, Andy understood that beginning a relationship... or whatever this was... with Miranda would probably not be free of complications. However, watching the older woman elegantly reapply her lipstick and knowing that she had just been invited to meet her family for Christmas, filled her with so much warmth that she refused to feel nervous or overwhelmed.

Miranda had just shared one of the most important details of herself and her past, and now she wanted to share part of her present, so Andy felt honored.

Putting the cap on the exquisite shade of red, Miranda gazed at the younger woman warmly. "Ready?"

Andy took a deep breath and smiled back.

"Yes. I'm ready."

* * *

To be continued...


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Okay, I haven't actually gotten to the dinner part yet in this chapter, but I moved already way past the 7000 word mark and I decided to split it into two chapters, otherwise it would become too long. ^_^ I dunno, I just kind of kept writing and writing and they still haven't eaten... xD  


* * *

  
**Chapter 6**

It felt unreal to be sitting in a booth at their local bar, surrounded by a jolly group of celebrating choir members, after she had just shared the sweetest and most intimate moment of her life with the silver-haired beauty who now sat across the table from her, absentmindedly playing with a coaster.

Andy could still not quite believe that less than an hour ago they had been in a church, slung around each other and kissed, so carefully and tender. The sweet sensation of the older woman's lips on hers still ghosted across Andy's skin and she felt nervous, giddy, overwhelmed and calm, all at the same time.

Miranda's hair was glowing warmly in the bar's Christmas lights and as she raised her blue eyes to meet Andy's there was a shy smile playing on her lips. Andy felt herself grin back and they quickly dropped their gazes to the table again before their facial expressions could escalate and draw attention.

"Here you go, ladies," Nigel placed their drinks in front of them and sat down next to Miranda, while Doug, carrying the guys' drinks, slid next to Andy.

The tenor raised his glass, "To a successful performance!"

"Hear hear!" Nigel clinked their glasses together.

Gingerly raising her own drink to Miranda's, Andy looked directly into the older woman's eyes and said quietly, "To a successful evening."

The conductor only gave a slight nod and touched her glass to the brunette's, in her elegant, reserved manner, but once Andy had brought the vodka tonic to her lips, she suddenly felt a pair of high-heeled feet encircle her ankle, and she had to brace herself on the table in order not to choke on her drink.

With nothing but a tiny spark of amusement betraying her aloof features, Miranda took a sip from her own beverage and then gracefully set it back down on the coaster. She then folded her hands and glanced around the bar to study the cheerful crowd while her feet still firmly pressed against Andy.

It wasn't as much a sensual gesture, as it was a way to reassure the brunette of her presence, much like the simple squeeze of a hand. It filled Andy with joy to find Miranda being so secretly affectionate and she shuffled her free foot around Miranda's to gently keep her in place. Their gazes met for a brief moment and Andy had to take another sip from her glass to hide the happy twitch of her mouth.

"So..." Nigel began carefully. "Irv came to see me after the concert."

Doug and Andy's head jerked up and even Miranda turned to face him.

"And? How did he like the show?" Doug asked with a hesitant grin.

Rubbing the side of the glass with his thumb, the pianist raised his eyebrows and continued. "Well, I think he was impressed... to the point of actual shock. He did not seem to _like_ it one bit, though."

"Well, tough luck, because we were brilliant," Doug said cheerfully before taking another swig from his drink.

Miranda merely raised an eyebrow but Andy could tell that the conductor did not disagree.

"So, does that mean he reconsidered shutting us down?" the brunette asked.

"Well, no. He just changed the rules." Nigel looked up at each of his table mates. "He now wants us to enter the preliminary rounds of next year's _New York City Choir Off_."

Andy's gaze immediately locked with Miranda's.

"If we do well in the overall competition, he'll leave the choir alone." Nigel finished with another sip from his drink.

"That son of a... a... hobbit!" The brunette slouched back into the seat with her arms crossed, mindful of her words in the conductor's presence. The conductor, however, just stared into her drink in thought, lightly tapping against the glass.

"Nigel, the _Choir Off_ was not part of the deal," she spoke softly without looking up.

Feeling her heart sink, Andy loosened her hold on the older woman's feet. "Miranda..."

Silver locks bounced up when the conductor raised her chin to quickly meet the brunette's worried eyes through lowered lids.

"I did not say I would quit, Andrea," she reassured the younger woman. "It merely... changes a few things," she added while tightening her hold on Andy under the table and dropping her gaze to her fidgeting fingers.

Andy's shoulders visibly relaxed at the older woman's words and she let go of the breath she'd been holding. She sheepishly placed her foot against Miranda's again and spoke softy, "Good. That's good."

The four of them remained quiet for a while, each finishing their drink in contemplation.

Andy felt elated at the idea of Miranda leading them to an actual competition. She had been dreading the possibility of Miranda leaving as soon as the choir was safe, but then again, they'd always need a conductor and choral director. The older woman had a lot of experience with the _Choir Off_ and the brunette was sure that it came with a lot of memories attached. Maybe Miranda would confide in her about all that in the near future.

Studying the conductor's face, Andy noticed the worry lines slightly deepening and she gently rubbed against Miranda under the table until blue eyes met hers again.

"It's late. I need to go," the older woman spoke suddenly as she withdrew her legs. Andy became worried again but she saw no distress in Miranda's gaze.

"I'll walk you out," she said quickly as Nigel and Douglas stood from their seats to let them pass.

Miranda grabbed her coat and bag and together they walked through the busy crowd toward the door. Their shoulders kept brushing when they tried to avoid some overly enthusiastic patrons, and once near the entrance Andy glided forward to hold the door open for the conductor, which earned her a small curl of the lips.

When they were outside on the cold sidewalk, Andy stopped, unsure of what to say. She didn't think a goodbye kiss was appropriate yet, at least not in public, and half the choir could see them through the bar windows. She wasn't wearing her coat and the crisp air quickly caused chill bumps to appear her bare arms.

Miranda's eyes were glued to her skin and with another slight curl to her mouth she quietly spoke, "Now who's cold?"

The brunette rubbed at her arms and sent her a smirk. "Will you take a cab?"

The conductor nodded and Andy swiftly stepped off the curb to wave down one of the yellow cars that buzzed by in a steady stream. Thanks to her scantily clad form, one of them stopped within seconds, and she leaned closer to a slightly blushing Miranda to reach past her and open the door.

"I will pick you up tomorrow at two in the afternoon," the conductor breathed in a half whisper, stopping, with one foot already inside the cab.

Andy nodded and gave the sweetest smile she could muster in the cold air.

"Have a good night, Miranda."

"You as well," the older woman whispered as their fingers brushed on the cab door.

They shared a final look before Miranda disappeared into the vehicle, and then Andy closed the door with a delicate thud. Once the car had pulled into traffic, the brunette hurried back inside the bar with a crazy torrent of emotion running through her, curling from the back of her ears all the way to her toes.

She quickly slid back into the booth next to Douglas.

"So, what did I miss?" she asked the two men while she rubbed her hands together for warmth.

Doug snorted and patted her cold shoulder. "What did _you_ miss?"

Andy looked from her friend to Nigel, both of which were nearly identically raising their brows at her now.

"Yeah, Little Sparrow. What was that all about? I've known Miranda Priestly for nearly twenty years, and I have never seen her _play footsie_ with anyone before."

The brunette's doe eyes nearly bulged out of her head. "Wh-what?" she stammered.

"Don't worry, Andy, it wasn't that obvious. I didn't even notice. Nigel just somehow picked up on it." Doug reassured her.

"It... it was nothing like that!" she mumbled quite hysterically through her palms.

"We were just... holding feet." As soon as she had said it, the three of them burst into loud giggles and Andy let her forehead fall onto the table.

"What's so funny?" Lily asked as she walked up.

Quickly the brunette shot a warning look to Nigel and Doug and then shook her head. "Nothing, Lily, just my usual life fail."

Lily leaned over and hugged her. "Aw, Sweetie, stop being so hard on yourself. You totally kicked ass tonight! Even the Snow Queen seemed impressed." She pulled away to look around. "Speaking of which, where has she disappeared off to? I bet Nate fifty bucks that she can't hold her liquor."

"Miranda went home." Andy informed her friend. She didn't like that Lily and Nate were placing bets on Miranda involving alcohol.

"And I think that's where I'll head now as well." She pulled on her coat and ignored the suggestive eyebrow wriggle from both Doug and Nigel.

"Oh, by the way, what time can we expect you tomorrow?" Doug asked as he handed Andy her purse.

"Oh shit," the brunette placed a hand over her mouth and switched on her apologetic, puppy-eyed look. "Doug I'm so sorry, something came up and I made other plans."

Her friend looked disappointed and confused for a moment until it slowly dawned on him.

"Ohhh! No way! Well. Go you!" He smirked and leaned up to kiss her cheek. "Have fun, then, alright?"

She nodded sheepishly and kissed him back. "I will. Tell your mom I'm sorry and I will come by some time next week for leftovers!"

Doug gave her an understanding nod and after a quick hug for Lily and Nigel, Andy rushed out of the bar.

As she made her way to the subway, she still felt slightly embarrassed at having been caught doing... well... whatever they had been doing under the table. At the same time, however, she felt happy, and thoroughly excited about the next day.

Although Christmas dinner loomed over her like two large, ominous clouds labeled "too soon" and "too fast", she looked forward to meeting Miranda's parents and Miranda's daughter. It meant a lot that the older woman wanted to share these things, and it wasn't like her feelings for Miranda were that new. Andy had kind of been hooked from the moment they had met, a month ago, when they had collided outside of _Starbucks_.

Snuggling into her thick coat, and ignoring the icy bites to her calves, which were barely protected by her pantyhose, she hurried down the subway steps, with a silly, love-sick smile on her lips.

* * *

Miranda drove through the eerily sleepy streets of Manhattan on the young Tuesday afternoon. Christmas Day always held a certain magic as it draped a serene blanket of stillness over the entire country, even over a metropolis like New York City. Most of the sporadic traffic consisted of yellow cabs, bringing people to their family dinners in a safe manner that would prevent later drink-and-drive incidents.

She stopped at a traffic light and allowed a shudder to ripple across her spine. No, she would not let such thoughts bring her down anymore. Drumming her fingers in their driving gloves against the leather steering wheel, she gazed at the red light swinging above her in the steady December wind. She recalled Andrea's face when they had said their goodbyes the previous night. The young brunette had smiled like an angelic apparition, shivering in the cold night and yet so gallantly holding open the cab door for Miranda. Andrea's attentiveness had really struck a sensitive point in the conductor's heart.

Her physical attraction for the young woman hadn't really come as a surprise to Miranda. How could you not be pulled toward the radiant beauty, with the perfect body, the silky hair and the dark eyes so full of passion? What had startled the older woman, though, was how quickly Andrea had found a way into her cold, broken heart in just a matter of weeks.

The persistent honking of a car horn pulled her out of her thoughts and she realized that the light had changed to green. Skillfully releasing the clutch and pushing down on the gas she sped off, leaving the noisy cab behind in a metaphorical cloud of dust.

Within minutes she pulled up in front of Andrea's apartment building and was pleased to see the brunette already standing on the sidewalk. She was wearing the silly green hat again with the all important scarf and Miranda had to smile.

Signaling for the conductor to remain inside the car, Andrea hurried around and slipped into the passenger seat. She made a small 'brrr' sound as she shook her shoulders and then pulled off her hat to greet Miranda with a warm smile.

"Hi," she said shyly, and gave a little wave with her candy-cane-gloved hand that made the older woman's sides hurt with adoration.

Before she realised what she was doing Miranda leaned across the small space and kissed Andrea sweetly on the mouth.

"Hi," the older woman whispered once she had pulled away again.

The brunette's face turned a delicate shade of pink and her red and white gloves shot up to cover glowing cheeks. They gazed at each other silently, but communicating so much with just the sparkle in their eyes and the gentle curve of their lips.

"We should go. It's a two hour drive," Miranda said after a minute and Andrea nodded and reached for the seat belt.

The older woman checked for traffic and then pulled away from the curb and in the direction of the highway. They did not speak but Andrea kept glancing over at her with a strange expression on her face, which Miranda could not decipher.

"Is something wrong?" she inquired after a while.

"Uhm... no," Andy said in a timid voice that worried the conductor.

"Andrea, if something is on your mind, please share it. This," she waved a gloved hand between them while she kept her eyes on the road, "needs to be built on complete openness."

"Uhm... yes, it's not that, Miranda... uhm... it's just..." her voice was barely a whisper and Miranda had to strain her ears to hear her over the loud German engine. "Watching you drive a Porsche is just really..._hot_."

The conductor looked over and caught Andrea doing a fanning motion with her hand. Their gazes met and they both blushed.

"Oh, I see," Miranda said as she tried to concentrate on the traffic again.

A laden silence followed, but it did not really feel awkward, just heavy, and the older woman, fueled by Andrea's comment, gripped the steering wheel tighter and lowered her foot a bit more firmly onto the gas pedal.

Had she just imagined the brunette gasping? _Dear god,_ Miranda inhaled deeply to get herself under control. She wasn't a teenage boy who wanted to impress his girlfriend with his first car and reckless driving skills. There was no way she would endanger Andrea's life with something so ridiculous.

"How about some music?" She said to cover the fact that she was slowing the car back down to a more or less acceptable speed. She motioned to the iPod that was attached to the dashboard and asked Andrea to find something nice.

"Any special wishes?" the brunette asked cheerfully.

"No," Miranda said, briefly glancing over. "Surprise me."

And so Andrea scrolled through the large selection of music on the device and kept pushing buttons.

"What are you doing?" Miranda inquired.

"Creating a _playlist_," the younger woman replied, while her thumb enthusiastically flew over the dial.

"What? It can do that?" The conductor moved her eyes from the road for a moment to glance at the small device in wonder. She only knew how to push the main buttons and so far it had always been enough to just chose a single album to listen to.

"Yes, I can show you how, later." Andrea said with a smile. "You seem to have a lot of music on here that I like. Our tastes must be very similar," she beamed at Miranda as she placed the player back in its holder and pressed 'play'.

Shortly after, the soft, first notes from Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata" danced from the surround speakers and filled the narrow interior of the sports car, loud enough to drown out some of the engine noise.

They listened to the piece in silence as the Porsche sped over the highway. Miranda found herself profoundly enjoying the shared quiet moments with Andrea, especially when they involved music. It seemed to be something that bound them together, that lulled them into a soft cocoon of experiencing beauty.

She stole a few side glances at the brunette who seemed lost in the sleepy world passing by outside the window. She wondered what was going on in Andrea's head. Was she committing the thinning houses and emerging woods to memory, the writer in her, seeking out words to describe each scene as she watched them unfold? Or was she picturing the music as the notes took shape, watching the piano keys as they were bent to the performer's will, in her mind's eye?

Miranda realized that she still knew so little about Andrea and for a moment she second-guessed her decision to bring the younger woman out to the Hamptons so soon. They hadn't even discussed if they were going to begin a relationship or not. It had been the rising panic at finding herself lost so deeply in another person so quickly, that had forced her to see this as the only valid option.

If she truly wanted to consider making this work with Andrea, the brunette would have to see and accept everything, and _everyone_ in Miranda's life. There was no way around it. She would not allow herself to fall even further for the beautiful young woman, if there was no way to combine both, a potential relationship with Andrea _and_ what she had planned for her own future and that of her daughter.

"What are you thinking about?" The brunette asked softly from beside her.

"You." Miranda stated truthfully and sent her a brief, but sincere look.

"Only good things, I hope," Andrea said while self-consciously tugging at her scarf.

"Hmmm..." the older woman hummed, but did not speak further. How could she tell Andrea that she wanted to be with her, but was afraid? How could she say that, although she longed, so much, to be intimate, she would not fully be able to give herself to Andrea unless there was a definite promise of it becoming much more than just a meaningless fling?

Then again, this could never be meaningless. Miranda knew they were already way past that stage. They had been, at the very least, since the previous Friday when Andrea had pulled her out of the lonely cold and into warm life with one single act of kindness and affection. And even before that, something had been binding them, pulling them ever closer, each time they interacted. This already felt so different from her... _adventure_... five years ago.

Back then, _she_ had made a point of ignoring the twins' existence. Miranda had kept both her love affair, and her family life completely separate because neither had seemed to want to know the other. The result had been countless compromises, the harshest of which was the loss of one of her babies. A price way too high to pay for anything.

"Hey." The sweet sound was accentuated by a warm palm on her thigh. "Are you alright, Miranda?"

The older woman briefly looked back to Andrea and gave a halfhearted smile. "I will be."

Not fully convinced, but seemingly content for now, the brunette pulled her hand away and leaned back against the seat.

"Is today some kind of test?" Andrea asked quietly while studying the dark clouds that were hanging drearily on the horizon.

Miranda's heart leaped in her chest, and she was afraid that her behavior would lead to alienating Andrea before anything could even happen between them.

"Hmmm, I think you could say that... in a way."

She remembered her mother's surprised voice when she had mentioned bringing a _friend_ along for Christmas dinner. Miranda's parents had always been very protective of her, especially since they had become aware of her exact situation five years ago, and they had not taken it lightly. She knew that there would probably be more than just one 'test' today.

"I'm sorry, Andrea." She exhaled while speeding past another car. "I know this is all so fast and... confusing. I, myself, am not even really sure what I'm doing... or why..." she trailed off and Andrea's hand resumed its earlier position on the older woman's thigh, where it now gently traced a reassuring pattern.

"I just know... that I want you with me," she added quietly, reaching down to squeeze the younger woman's hand.

"It's alright Miranda. I will be fine," the brunette said sweetly as she laced their fingers together. "I feel honored that I get to meet your family. I will simply be myself today, and then we'll see where that leads, okay?"

The conductor nodded and gently drew their hands up to kiss Andrea's fingers.

"You're amazing, you know that?" she said with a timid smile.

"You haven't seen nothing yet, lady!" the brunette joked back, and Miranda was hit with many different variations of anticipation at that very true statement.

* * *

The world outside went by in a blur as Miranda piloted them through the dim Christmas afternoon and Andy knew that this image would stay with her forever, through lonely nights and dark days. The poised way the older woman was sitting in the driver's seat, silk pantyhose covering her slender, yet strong calves, as she pressed her four-inch heels onto the gas pedal so commandingly, just captured the brunette and did wonderful things to the area below her bellybutton.

Of course she was insanely nervous about the dinner and about meeting Miranda's family, but right now, the only things that registered were the soft sound of Chopin, the strong engine propelling them seemingly through time and space, and the occasional conversation they shared, where Miranda told Andy details about her parents and how they had taken in Caroline after the accident.

They had entered the town of Southampton and Andy watched in awe as they approached a large, white iron gate which readily swung open when Miranda pressed the little remote attached to her sun visor. As the Porsche's wheels slowly ground over the gravel path toward the large building, Miranda turned to face Andy.

"You should know that I notified my parents about you accompanying me today."

Andy wasn't sure how she should feel about that. It certainly ruled out a majorly awkward surprise, but it would have also given the Priestly family time to prepare excruciating questions.

The car stopped and Miranda shifted into 'neutral' and pulled the handbrake before she turned off the engine.

"Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Andy said with a grimace but then sent Miranda a brave smile.

They stepped out of the car and as if on cue, all of a sudden tiny snowflakes began to fall. Andy gazed up against the flurry of white descending onto them and Miranda walked around the vehicle and came to stand by her side.

"The first snow of the season," she murmured thoughtfully. "Maybe it's a sign?"

When the brunette looked over at the conductor, she noticed the small crystals adorning her silver hair, and sparkling from her long eyelashes.

"Wow," Andy exhaled in a small cloud of condensation. "You truly are a _Snow Queen._"

"I beg your pardon?" Miranda looked at her through lowered lids with a purse to her perfect, red lips.

Andy just reached up to brush a lock away from the older woman's eyes. "You're beautiful."

"Oh... Well..." Miranda blushed and began walking toward the house.

A satisfied smirk playing on her lips, Andy rushed to catch up and felt the conductor take her hand as they approached the door. The older woman rang the doorbell and chewed on her bottom lip as they waited.

After just a few seconds the door swung open and the housekeeper greeted them and offered to take their coats and scarves as they stepped into the largest hallway Andy had ever seen inside a home. It was elegant and Edwardian, but had a warm feel to it, and the banister of the stairs was decorated with little twigs of evergreen and a few red ribbons. In dazed wonder she followed the stuccoed lines of the high ceiling with her eyes and inhaled the clearly defined smell of Christmas dinner wafting from somewhere in the large building.

"Miranda Darling, you're early," came a warm voice from behind them.

Andy spun around to watch an older woman, whom she recognized from the news photo in the article about the accident, approach them with a curious gleam in her eyes. There was a definite resemblance and Andy saw where Miranda had gotten her elegance and sophisticated nature from. Mrs.

Priestly was wearing expensive looking slacks and a red sweater, no doubt cashmere, atop a white-collared shirt, and her snowy hair was pulled up in a tight bun. Andy studied the lined features and imaged how similarly beautiful Miranda might look in thirty year's time.

"Hello Mother," The conductor stepped forward and embraced her mom. "I want you to meet Andrea Sachs," she gestured toward the shy brunette. "She is a soprano in the choir I lead."

Andy hesitantly stepped forward as a very Miranda-esque evaluation stare was directed her way, before her offered hand was clasped in a firm, but ladylike shake.

"Andrea, this is my mother, Marianne Priestly."

"How do you do," Miranda's mom said warmly.

"It's an honor to meet you, Mrs. Priestly," Andy said while fighting the urge to curtsy, her heart racing faster than Miranda in a Porsche.

"Please, call me Marianne," the older woman smiled as she glanced contemplatively from the brunette to her daughter and then back again.

"Your father is in the sitting room." Marianne informed and they followed her quietly past a beautifully furnished study, through a tall archway and into a spacious room with blue, diamond-patterned wallpaper.

"Charles, Miranda is here."

A gentleman in about his late sixties, peered at them over the top of his newspaper and through his dark-rimmed spectacles.

"Mira, nice to see you," he folded the paper, rose from his chair and walked up to hug his daughter.

"And you brought a friend," he said after pulling away. It made Andy slightly apprehensive, but she could not really spot anything hostile in the man's blue eyes.

"Father, this is Andrea Sachs. Andrea, meet my father, Charles Priestly," she introduced them and Andy gave her best professional handshake, one she had practiced many times with Doug and Nate when she had first begun working at the _Mirror_, in anticipation of any potential future interviews with important people.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Priestly," Andy said in a sincere and determined manner and she saw the faint traces of a familiar sparkle in his eyes.

"The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Sachs." He said evenly, and the brunette knew that Miranda's 'business face' was also, most definitely, a genetic trait.

"Please, call me Andy. Uhm... here," she reached inside her bag and pulled out a bottle of red wine. "I know it's probably nothing fancy, but... thank you for letting me join for dinner." She handed the bottle to Mr. Priestly, and was glad for Nate being an up-and-coming sous-chef who always gave her a good selection of wines for her birthday. This one was a 2004 _Mirabile Tannat_ from Italy, and her friend had highly praised its coffee and tobacco undertones.

Mr. Priestly read the label and gave a pleased nod. "Thank you, Andrea. And you're welcome. We're glad to have you."

He placed the bottle on a nearby side table and turned to his daughter.

"Caroline is upstairs playing her game," he said with affection colouring his voice.

Miranda's mother chimed in. "We told her to wait for you but she already unwrapped all her gifts this morning."

"Well, teenagers," Miranda sighed and Andy gave her a small, understanding grin.

"We'll go say hello," the conductor said as she gently pulled the brunette by the elbow.

"Dinner will be ready in an hour, so take your time," Marianne called after them as the two women moved up the carpeted stairs.

Andy took a deep, audible breath and Miranda paused to run the back of her fingers tenderly over her cheek.

"So far, so good," the brunette whispered and the conductor smiled.

"Come on." She tugged Andy up the last few steps and down the well-lit hallway toward the faint sound of Muse's 'Knights of Cydonia', until they stopped in front of a large, white door that had wooden letters nailed to it, spelling out 'Caroline', and Miranda knocked.

"Gramps, I'm about to beat this level, so please don't interrupt. I'll be right down!" They heard through the guitar riffs echoing from behind the wall.

Miranda quietly turned the knob and the door swung open to reveal a very large, and quite messy teenager room. The light blue walls and stuccoed ceiling were the only thing tying this space to the rest of the house. Clothes, books and plastic CD cases lay strewn across the room as if a tornado had hit. The walls were covered with band posters and there was a king-sized bed in one corner and a large flat-screen TV in another, which had a concentrated strawberry-blonde twisting on the couch in front of it.

Caroline sat enthusiastically clicking away at a plastic guitar controller, bopping her head along with the rhythm as she focused on the game on the large screen in front of her.

Once the song had ended and the teenager had punched a fist in the air with a happy 'Yeah!', Miranda knocked on the open door again and the girl spun around.

"Mom!" she yelped excitedly once she saw Miranda, and she reached for the two crutches that rested against the couch, and struggled to stand as quickly as she could manage. The conductor swiftly stepped around a pair of shoes and a few t-shirts and enveloped her daughter in a tight hug.

"Hello, darling. I see that you are enjoying your presents."

The girl pulled away sheepishly. "Yes, sorry, I couldn't wait. I love the game! Thanks mom!" Her eyes finally found Andy, who still stood shyly by the door.

"Who's that?"

Miranda waved for Andy to come closer. "That's... Andrea. My friend, from the choir."

Caroline nodded and shook the brunette's hand.

"Hi. You can call me Andy."

The girl's eyes looked so much like Miranda's and her long hair was the same shade Andy remembered seeing when she had googled for older photos of the conductor.

Caroline nodded and looked from her mother to the younger woman, as if to figure out the reason why on earth her mom would bring a friend over for a family Christmas dinner.

"Is that _Guitar Hero Three_?" Andy pointed at the paused game on the screen.

"Uhm... yeah."

"Oh cool, and you have the limited edition Jimi Hendrix Stratocaster Wii controller?"

Caroline nodded.

"Wow, you have like, the coolest mom ever!" Andy said excitedly as she put her hands on her hips and faced Miranda.

The conductor was studying her with a thoughtful expression from behind Caroline, her hands still resting on her daughter's shoulders. The girl looked at Andy with a mix of careful interest and scepticism.

"So, you're left-handed, huh? Me too!" Andy pressed on, wriggling her left fingers while giving a shy smile.

"That reminds me, I brought you a present," she reached into her messenger bag and retrieved a flat, rectangular package. Miranda raised both her eyebrows in surprise but remained quiet, as Andy handed the gift to Caroline.

"Me coming here was a bit short notice and all the shops were closed, so I thought I'd just give you my own copy." Andy babbled, as she fidgeted with her fingers. Mother and daughter had a look of curiosity on their faces as the teenager removed the white bow and dark blue wrapping paper.

Once Caroline had unwrapped the book and turned it face-up, Andy continued in a more timid voice, "It's my all-time favourite. Maybe you're already a bit too old, but I hope you like it."

It was the original 2002 hardcover edition of Neil Gaiman's 'Coraline' and the girl held it up to Miranda.

"Look mom, they spelled my name wrong, just like Cass always did."

_Oh crap,_ shot through Andy's head. She had not intended to bring up any painful memories for either of them. She had only wanted to share something that she cherished with Miranda's daughter.

Biting on her lower lip she watched as the older woman took in the book title and then leaned her head over Caroline's shoulder to hug her daughter tightly.

"I think this is a wonderful gift, don't you agree?" The teenager nodded and looked shyly over to the weary brunette.

"Thanks, Andy." A genuine smile appeared on the girl's lips.

"No problem, Caroline," the brunette smiled back, relief falling off her shoulders like a ten-pound rock.

"Hey Andy, do you want to play Guitar Hero? I have a second controller," the teenager motioned to another, large package lying on the floor. "There's a two-player mode, and I had nobody to play with."

Andy's heart ached for the single twin.

"Yeah, sure, but don't you want to catch up with your mom?" Andy looked at Miranda who still had her arms around her daughter.

"Oh that's okay, I saw mom just last weekend," the girl said as she twisted from her mother's grasp and hobbled back to the couch on her crutches.

"Go ahead, Andrea. I will just sit down and watch."

There was something warm in Miranda's eyes and the soft smile tugging at her lips caused Andy's heart to leap.

"Well, okay then. It's on!" she exclaimed cheerfully while crouching down to get the second controller from its box.

* * *

Miranda leaned into the soft couch cushion next to her daughter as she watched how Andrea beat Caroline at the noisy video game for the sixth in a row. The brunette kept apologizing, but Caroline, very much like her mother would, just kept at it, getting better and creeping closer to Andrea's high-scores with every round.

The conductor was filled with pride, but her daughter had already proven many times before how determined she could be. The years of physiotherapy and operations had shown that, and it had all finally paid off when, one month ago, doctors had succeeded in removing the remaining scar tissue that had pressed against Caroline's spinal chord.

After the accident she had still felt sensation in her feet and legs, but the motor function had been largely inhibited, in what the doctors called an 'incomplete spinal chord injury'. Caroline had bitten through each and every therapy session, had suffered many tears of frustration and pain, and finally she was rewarded with this tremendous progress.

The teenager could now move through the house freely on her crouches, albeit still in a slow pace. Therapy was going well and the doctors were positive that, with enough training, Caroline could actually walk without aid in the near future.

"Ack! Nearly!" the girl said exasperatedly. "Why are you so good at this Andy? How can your fingers move so fast?"

"Uhm... I play guitar, so I guess that kind of helps with the finger movements," the brunette shrugged as she selected a new song from the menu.

"That is so cool, Andy! Can you teach me one day?" Caroline asked with excitement. "I've always wanted to play in a band!"

"Sure, if it's okay with your mom."

Both her daughter and Andrea turned around to look at Miranda with a hopeful sparkle in their eyes and the conductor suddenly felt weak with emotions. She was amazed at how quickly Caroline had warmed up to the brunette, and it had erased a lot of her initial anxiety. Andrea had not only immediately treated her daughter as an equal, but had also brought a thoughtful gift, and now she had even offered music lessons.

Miranda looked from one expectant face to another and could no longer keep in the large smile that had slowly been building over the last few minutes.

"Yes, of course it's okay!" she said warmly and felt her eyes burn with affection.

Caroline pumped her fist in the air with a happy 'Yes!' and Andrea just returned Miranda's deep gaze with a large smile of her own.

"You two keep playing. I will go down and help set up, alright?" The conductor elegantly rose from her seat, eyes not leaving the brunette.

"Yeah, yeah, mom," Caroline shooed her away from where she blocked the girl's line of sight to the TV, and with a final, gentle touch to Andrea's shoulder Miranda left the room.

She held her hands to her chest as she descended the stairs, grasping at this glowing feeling that felt so unreal and good inside of her. As if her body had been in a draught for five long years and now finally felt the first drops of a monsoon, with the promise of thick rain hanging heavily in the air.

Miranda walked into the kitchen with a silly grin still plastered on her face and sat down on one of the stools by the kitchen island. Her mother, who stood by the fridge had watched her come in and was now eyeing her with an analytical Priestly stare.

"What?" the conductor asked after losing the battle with those eyes on her.

Marianne put down the jug of grape juice she had been holding and stepped up to the island counter.

"She seems like a nice girl..."

"Mother..."

"No, Mira, let me say my bit." Mrs. Priestly crossed her arms and giving her daughter a long look she continued, "I know why you brought her here today."

The conductor raised a quizzical eyebrow at her mother and squared her shoulders.

"You brought her here, so you would not make the same mistake as with that French woman and because you needed, above all else, for her and Caroline to work."

Miranda dropped her gaze to a fixed spot on the oak counter top and remained silent as her mother continued in a more gentle tone.

"You brought Andrea here, because you felt like you needed our permission to have a shot at happiness, and because your heart is still so riddled with guilt that you don't trust yourself to make the right decision."

The salty liquid quickly built on her lower lids, and as soon as she blinked two thick streams of tears rolled down her cheeks. Her mother was so right.

"Mira," Mrs. Priestly spoke softly and stepped closer to her weeping daughter. "Let me tell you, that Andrea truly seems like a wonderful young woman and the way she looks at you is honest and full of devotion. She's different."

The conductor nodded and used the back of her hand to wipe at her tears in a clumsy and non-elegant way that could only be triggered by sobbing like a baby in her mother's kitchen.

"And the most important thing is," Marianne spoke sweetly as she put a hand on her daughter's back. "The most important thing is... that you, Mira, more than anyone else in this world, finally deserve some happiness."

Miranda leaned across the short distance and hugged her mother tightly.

Yes. Andrea was so very different, and she wasn't the kind of person who would just use Miranda and throw her away. That the brunette would be kind to Caroline was also clear, and the way Andrea had behaved over the past month, Miranda knew her to be genuinely caring and very affectionate.

Maybe her mother was right and she _did_finally deserve happiness. Letting go of what happened was still a hard thing to do, but maybe she didn't have to do it all by herself.

The conductor gingerly pulled away with a sniffle and Marianne gave her an encouraging smile.

"Thank you, Mother."

Mrs. Priestly rubbed Miranda's shoulder one last time and then proceeded back to the fridge to continue with dinner preparations, leaving the conductor to dry her face on a checkered paper towel.

"Have you given some thought to what we spoke about on Saturday?" Miranda said once she had fully regained her composure.

"Your father and I had a talk and we both agree, that Caroline could transfer at the beginning of the new semester," Marianne replied as she warmed up a large bowl of gravy in the microwave. "Depending on how her therapy goes, she can decide whether or not she'll use the wheel chair for school, but I'm certain that Dalton is adequately equipped either way."

"Yes, I've spoken to the principle and it wouldn't be a problem. She used to love it there when they... she... was little." Miranda shared a meaningful look with her mother and rested her chin on her left hand. "I will ask her tonight. I know that moving back to New York is not a small undertaking, and I'm sure she will miss her friends here."

Tracing small circles across the counter with her right index finger, she continued quietly. "I just really want her to live with me again. I think it will do both of us good."

Marianne nodded and removed the turkey casserole from the oven.

"Of course we will miss her, Mira," she placed the hot dish on the cooking range. "But she needs to be with her mother. Charles and I are nearly seventy, I think we're getting too old to handle a teenager."

She smiled ruefully and Miranda gave a sweet chuckle. "Yes, when I hear the music she listens to nowadays I'd be happy to keep Andrea around just so someone other than me can deal with the noise."

Mrs. Priestly turned around and looked at her daughter warmly. "You're really serious about her, aren't you, Mira."

The conductor tried to shrug away her blush. "Yes. I guess so... you know... we haven't... well. We kissed for the first time yesterday, and it was careful and sweet. We haven't even really talked about whether we're actually in a relationship or not."

Suddenly she felt very silly. Essentially her and Andrea weren't even dating yet, unless you could call inviting someone over to your parents' house for Christmas dinner, just one day after a first kiss, 'dating'.

"I think you should have that talk with her soon, Mira." Marianne gazed lovingly at her daughter.

"Yes, you're right," Miranda whispered and tapped a finger against her lips contemplatively.

The clacking sound of crutches came from the hallway and a few moments later a radiant Caroline pushed through the swinging door.

"Mom! I won! I beat Andy!" The teenager moved to where her mother sat and leaned in for a hug.

Across the girl's shoulder, the conductor watched as Andrea slowly followed into the room and the brunette's face lit up as soon as her eyes found Miranda.

Yes, they would have to talk, _soon_.

* * *

To be continued...


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Sorry it toko so long, I was very busy in RL and I did not want to rush this chapter. ^_^ More singing! Yay! And fluff! Will take a small break with this in order to finish my secret santa story on time, but I think it leaves off at an acceptable spot. ^_^

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Dinner was surprisingly relaxed. Miranda's parents were remarkable people who didn't hide their curiosity regarding Andy but managed to make, what was essentially an interrogation, feel like a pleasant conversation.

"Northwestern University? I received my law degree at the Chicago campus," Mr. Priestly said with a gleam in his eyes, no doubt remembering his wild college years. "So _Medill School_, I take it? You said you're a journalist?"

Andy nodded. "Yes, I went to Medill and now I write for the _Mirror_."

Carefully resting her knife and fork on her plate, Andy took a sip of water and then dried her lips with a napkin.

"I nearly went to law school, though," she added.

Charles looked pleasantly surprised. "At Northwestern?"

"No," the brunette sheepishly shook her head. "I got into Stanford."

At this, Miranda looked up and Andy realised that, of course, they hadn't talked about these kind of things yet, everything was still new.

"What made you chose journalism over law?" the conductor asked, intrigued.

"Well, I believed I could do more good as a journalist, than as a lawyer."

"Do you still believe that now?" Miranda inquired further, leaning back in her chair and studying Andy thoughtfully.

"That depends," Andy said shyly. "Some of the articles I wrote about the recent withdrawal of government funding from special education programs made me wish I had a law degree after all. There's only so much I can do with words in this case. I draw other people's attention to certain issues but other than that I'm just a helpless bystander."

The conductor raised her chin and regarded the journalist through lowered eyelids, as if thoroughly impressed with the answer. It made Andy glow and she felt a sense of pride expand her chest with a burning freshness. For a moment she forgot the other dinner companions and allowed herself to drown in Miranda's warm gaze, enjoying the dreamy giddiness that surged up in her.

"What's for dessert, Grandma?" Caroline called from across the table.

Marianne delicately folded her napkin next to her plate and smiled at her granddaughter.

"I think this year Xavier has completely outdone himself. There is _Cranberry Vanilla Crème Brulée_ waiting in the fridge."

She pushed back her chair and stood, nodding at her husband. "Your grandfather and I will go and get it."

Once Mr. and Mrs. Priestly had left the dining room, Andy whispered to the remaining two. "Who's Xavier?"

"Xavier has been my parents' cook for over thirty years," Miranda explained after taking a sip from her grape juice.

Caroline chimed in with a crinkle to her nose, "He's French, and sometimes he makes really weird things, and he still can't get my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches right."

Andy offered the teenager a compassionate smile. Seeing how PB&Js were practically her specialty, this would not be a problem in the future. _The future,_ she realised with a start. She had only just met the kid and she was already picturing making her packed school lunches. Even if things worked out with Miranda, Caroline still lived two hours away and Andy could not really imagine leaving New York to move to the Hamptons. _Oh god,_ she rubbed at her eyes. She could not possibly be thinking these kind of things!

She looked across to Miranda and was immediately trapped in another warm gaze. It seemed as if the older woman could actually read Andy's thoughts and was pleased with the direction they were going. Like two poles, pulled closer by their magnetic force, their eyes remained locked and the intensity muted out everything else around them.

The arrival of their dessert broke the magic enough for them to find their bearings.

"Caroline move your chair back a bit, or your grandfather will melt off your eyebrows," Miranda said evenly when Charles walked over with a broiler.

The teenager giggled and pushed off the table as her grandfather set down her portion of crème and proceeded to 'brulée' it.

Once Mr. Priestly had successfully caramelised the sugar on top of everybody's dish, without inflicting any minor injuries, they dug in.

The rich, sweet flavour of vanilla custard with the twist of fresh cranberries, and a crispy and slightly burned top layer, flooded Andy's senses and she hummed in approval. "Hmmm, wow, this is spectacular."

Caroline eagerly nodded her agreement and Miranda raised an eyebrow at the two of them. After she had finished her own bite, however, the conductor faced her mother and said in her typical, even voice, "You may keep Xavier in your employ for another year."

Both Andy and Caroline giggled and Miranda's parents shared an amused look.

While they finished their dessert, Marianne brought the focus back on Andy.

"So why are you not with your family on Christmas Day, Andrea?" she asked lightly.

The brunette swallowed her last spoonful of the crème and then placed her cutlery on the table.

"My parents are in Paris over the holidays."

"Oh! _Pari'_... how romantic. I am certain they are having the most wonderful time," Miranda's mother said dreamily, while drawing little circles with the dessert spoon between her fingers.

"I love Paris, you see. I've had the great pleasure to perform in the _Palais Garnier_ twice in my career, and I have seen countless of beautiful operas, musicals and other concerts in that wonderful city."

Andy looked from Miranda to her mother and then asked, "So you're a singer?" She blushed slightly, as she realised how lame that had sounded. "I'm sorry if that is a silly question... we just haven't..." she sheepishly gazed at the conductor, "... talked about those kind of things yet."

Mrs. Priestly warmly looked at her daughter and then back to Andy.

"Not a silly question at all, Andrea. Yes, I used to sing professionally. I was quite a successful soprano, if I may say so," she chuckled.

"Of course I've always had high dreams for my little Mira to step into my shoes one day," Andy watched as Miranda defiantly crossed her arms and leaned against the back of her chair, looking challengingly at her mother. "... but alas, she got too frustrated with other people's shortcomings and chose the path of musical director instead."

There wasn't any bitterness in Marianne's voice and she just sparkled at her daughter, who was now rolling her eyes at the ceiling.

"Mother!"

"Oh, and did you know that Mira has one of the most beautiful mezzo soprano voices in the state of New York?"

Mrs. Priestly then became thoughtful. "It's a shame she stopped singing when she got married to her ex-husband..."

The brunette felt the atmosphere at the table shift at the mention of Miranda's ex and Caroline's father. A strangled silence was the result and every one of the four Priestlys sat in their own somber thoughts about the man who had caused so much heartbreak.

"Maybe," Andy looked at the conductor and tried carefully, "maybe one day you can sing for me?"

Miranda found her eyes and stared into them thoughtfully for a while before giving a slow nod. "Yes, maybe."

There it was again, the unstoppable force grabbing at their souls, and pulling them together. Andy felt it claw at her when she let herself sink into Miranda's dark blue pools and she watched as the conductor's face mirrored her emotions.

"Hey, why don't we all go and sing right now? It's what people usually do on Christmas!" Caroline sat up straight and seemed surprised at her own, brilliant idea.

Charles sent his granddaughter a loving smile. "That's a wonderful idea, Darling. How about we move into the sitting room for some coffee and I will set up the grand piano?"

The flicker of hope Andy had felt at the prospect of hearing Miranda sing so soon, was quickly extinguished by the terrified look on the conductor's face.

"Miranda, you don't have to sing if you don't want to," the brunette said softly, conveying through her eyes that she wouldn't think any less of the older woman. "Maybe you can watch and listen, though?"

The conductor held her gaze for a moment and then nodded with a small, relieved smile.

"Okay, okay, let's go!" Caroline said as she lunged herself forward on her crutches with her grandparents trailing behind her.

Miranda stood from her chair and walked around to Andy, who still sat frozen at the sudden realisation that she would have to sing in front of people she had only just met. Singing a solo with a choir was one thing. Singing in an intimate setting, in front of a small group of people, who had such a profound musical background, was a whole different task.

Soft fingers on her cheek brought her out of her musings.

"You coming?" Miranda asked gently as she extended a hand.

Sliding her fingers into the waiting palm, Andy smiled shyly at the older woman and rose from her chair. She suddenly realised that they were alone, and standing this close to Miranda lulled the brunette into a secure, warm cloud and made the prospect of having to sing to her family less daunting. Deep blue was staring at her intently while a thumb sweetly caressed the back of Andy's hand.

The young journalist felt shy, but thoroughly flustered under the intense gaze. She saw different shades of affection flood the older woman's irises. There was adoration and a sparkle of contentment. A hint of surprise, some unguarded longing and inside the dark pupils Andy saw... desire.

It was not necessarily physical desire, Miranda didn't appear to want to ravish her alive right there and then. No, it seemed like an overwhelming need to be with Andy, in any possible way, to know everything about her, and to share everything with her.

A warm hand sneaked around the brunette's neck and tenderly pulled her closer until their lips met. Like the night before, it was slow and sweet. After a short moment of Andy losing herself in the soft, cranberry-vanilla flavoured kiss, Miranda pulled away, just enough to put her forehead against the brunette's and then gently stroked the back of the Andy's neck.

They shared a smile and Miranda pulled her into a warm embrace, dragging her palms up and down her back, and causing unmistakable tingles to collect in the pit of the journalist's stomach.

"We should go, they probably wonder where we are," Andy said a bit flustered.

Miranda nodded and stepped away, while grabbing the brunette's hand and then pulled her into the sitting room.

* * *

A wild torrent of emotions was swirling inside of Miranda as she settled down beside Andrea on the cream-coloured sofa. Her body was still buzzing from the kiss and tight embrace and she was acutely aware of Andrea's thigh pressing against her side as the brunette shifted in her seat.

The more Miranda felt her heart open up to the younger woman, the more she also allowed for the physical responses to break through her inner ice walls. Now that being with Andrea was manifesting itself as a real possibility, the conductor had a hard time keeping her hands from reaching out and brushing against those soft cheeks again, or trailing gentle patterns on Andrea's palm.

Miranda was glad that Caroline came clacking over and maneuvered herself on her lap. Pulling her closer, the conductor deeply inhaled her daughter's scent, her chest heavy with regrets about past negligence but quickly also filling with the knowledge that both her and Caroline were finally healing. Her love and sorrow for Cassidy found a catalyst in the remaining twin. She finally understood that the memory of Cassidy would always live on in the bond she shared with Caroline.

She pressed a cheek against her daughter's back and hugged her tightly.

"Mom! You're squishing me!"

The conductor's chuckle was muffled by the teenager's thick sweater but Caroline wriggled happily on her lap with giggles of her own. Across the girl's shoulder, Miranda watched her parents exchanging a meaningful look, but she couldn't quite decipher it.

As Marianne set down two coffee cups on the side table next to the couch, Charles proceeded to prop up the grand piano lid and then sat down on the red-velvet-covered bench. He began to play a soft swing melody, and after a short intro, began to sing with that warm, deep voice Miranda had always loved so much.

_"Chestnuts roasting on an open fire... Jack Frost nipping at your nose,"_ he sent a loving smile to his daughter and granddaughter.

_"Yuletide carols... being sung by a choir... and folks dressed up like Eskimos."_

Miranda closed her eyelids and lost herself in the moment. She felt happy. Yes, this was happiness. And it wasn't fragile, or hesitant, but sending her entire body ablaze with a vibrant glow.

_"Everybody knows... A turkey and some mistletoe... help to make the season bright..."_

The conductor felt Andrea shift beside her and she opened her eyes to watch the younger woman relax against the back rest with a content smile on her lips.

_"Tiny tots, with their eyes all aglow... will find it hard to sleep tonight..."_ Charles went on singing, as his fingers continued to conjure the lazy and warm piano melody.

_"They know that Santa's on his way... he's loading lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh. And every mother's child is gonna spy... to see if reindeer really know how to fly."_

At this Andrea turned her head and looked back at Miranda with eyes full of warmth and affection. Miranda suddenly felt her heart jolt as she realised the truth. She _loved_ Andrea. She was _in_ love with her. Maybe it was soon, but it was definitely there and could no longer be ignored.

_"And so... I'm offering this simple phrase... to kids from one to ninety-two... although it's been said, many times, many ways..."_

The brunette offered her the most brilliant smile and then mouthed the words along as Miranda's father sang them.

_"Merry Christmas... to you...!"_

Miranda knew, that if it weren't for Caroline's weight on her, she'd lean over and crush Andrea in a tight embrace. She had not felt the need to express affection to anyone for five long years, until recently, and now, that the floodgates of her heart were opened, she wasn't sure how to handle the sudden onslaught of emotions.

She raised a heavy hand to the brunette's cheek to cup it tenderly, and then mouthed a silent 'thank you', which made Andrea glow impossibly more.

Marianne and Caroline clapped their hands once Charles had played the final piano note, and quickly Andrea and Miranda joined in the applause.

"Grandpa, that was awesome!"

"Thank you, Sweet pea. Now, who's next?"

* * *

Andy listened in awe as Miranda's mother gave a beautiful rendition of Judy Garland's 'Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas'. The sweet hope of the song sent the promise of a happy future into the room and everyone listened in silence, entranced by the gentle vibrato of Marianne's voice.

Her cheek still tingling from where Miranda had just pressed a hot palm against it, the journalist traced her fingertips over her lips, lost in thought. Her eyes peered through one of the windows, into the dark evening that was so softly broken up by the flurry of thick snowflakes dancing outside.

The cozy warmth, the togetherness and the affection between the different generations felt so much like home. A small pang shot through her heart at the thought of her parents being so far away, but Andy knew that she would not rather be in Ohio with them right now. This... being here with Miranda and her family, felt so natural and familiar that she did not really miss her own parents' home.

Once Marianne had finished singing and everyone had rewarded her with applause and heartfelt praise, Caroline hobbled up to the piano and whispered to her grandfather who then nodded with a smile and began to play a slow jazz tune.

_"I... saw mommy kissing Santa Claus... "_ Caroline sang with her clear voice slightly distorted by the wide grin she wore as she looked at Miranda.

_"Underneath the mistletoe last night..."_

The amused sniff made Andy turn her head to watch Miranda purse her lips, but her blue eyes had a distinct, cheeky sparkle to them.

_"She did not see me creep... down the stairs to have a peep... she thought that I was tucked up in my bedroom, fast asleep..."_

The teenager kept on singing, some words unrecognizable through her giggles, and Andy became completely endeared by the affectionate playfulness between mother and daughter.

The song finished with Caroline hobbling back to Miranda and earning a sweet poke to the tip of her nose and a big hug.

"Okay, and now Andy!" the teenager beamed after she had pulled from her mother's embrace and had leaned against the armrest of the love seat.

Feeling less shy after the other performances Andy stood and walked to the piano.

"Does it have to be a Christmas song?" she asked Caroline, who had settled into the now empty seat next to Miranda.

"Hmmm, no, of course not. Just sing whatever you like. Grandpa can play anything," the teenager smiled and then clapped her hands expectantly.

With a final look to Miranda, who sat up straight, her legs crossed elegantly and an intrigued eyebrow raised back at her, Andy bent her head down to Charles and whispered the song name and the key she wanted to sing.

Miranda's father nodded and then began playing.

Andy closed her eyes to collect herself. She knew that this performance wasn't an audition or a contest, but she realised that what she was about to sing was important, and she wanted to do it justice.

_"Climb every mountain... search high and low... follow every highway... every path you know,_ she began slowly, her hand resting on her belly, on the very spot Miranda had touched four weeks ago, and had caused such a symphony of intense feelings.

_"Climb every mountain... ford every stream... follow every rainbow... till you find your dream."_

Andy opened her eyes and looked directly into shiny blues.

_"A dream that will need... all the love you can give..._ Their connection was strong as it hung between them in thick, steel cables, humming with each caress of Andy's voice.

_"Every day of your life... for as long as you live..._ Andy raised the volume of her voice only slightly, as to not overpower the small room. However the intensity of the words still hit her as she realised that she truly meant them.

The overwhelming sensations moved from her chest and drenched the song in vivid colours as she gave melodious shape to everything she wanted to say to Miranda at that moment. The conductor's eyes watered, her lips were parted and her hands had risen to her chest where she clamped down on her heart.

_"... follow every rainbow... till you find your... dream."_ Andy hit the final high note perfectly and before Charles had finished the piano part, Miranda was already up and rushing across the short distance to the brunette.

She looked intently into Andy's eyes and took both her hands in her own.

"I think I already found my dream," the conductor whispered, a single tear rolling down her flushed cheeks.

Andy wanted to do nothing more than to wrap her arms around Miranda and kiss her with all the love she felt, but she was too acutely aware of the sudden silence in the room and only offered a shy smile instead. They stood together for a while until Mr. Priestly cleared this throat.

"That was really beautiful, Andrea," Marianne said clapping her hands, and Caroline added, "Wow, Andy, that was awesome!"

Relieved, Andy smiled at the Priestlys and then stroked the back of Miranda's hands with her thumbs.

"Thank you."

Charles stood from the piano and moved to the small liquor cabinet in the back of the room. "Would any of you like a drink?"

Miranda looked at him confused. "Father, we still need to drive back!"

"Yes, well, I don't think that will be possible," Marianne, who had stepped next to Andy, said as she placed a hand on both Miranda's and the brunette's shoulders. "Look outside, there is absolutely no way I will let you two drive tonight."

Andy recalled watching the thick snowflakes fall and she turned to look out the window. Softly illuminated by the lights from the inside of the house, she could see the back garden completely covered in a heavy blanket of snow.

"Oh..." she allowed softly, immediately liking the thought of spending more time with the Priestlys and especially with Miranda.

The conductor searched Andy's eyes. "Are you okay with spending the night here?"

"Yes!" It may have sounded a little over-eager, but then again, Andy did not want to leave.

Miranda smiled at the quick answer, and without her sparkling blue eyes leaving the brunette's, she addressed Charles. "Okay Father, how about some eggnog, then?"

"Yay! Andy, then you can play more Guitar Hero with me!" Caroline clapped her hands.

"Oh yes! I will get my revenge!" the journalist giggled, and Miranda glanced between the two with a warm, determined look. She gave a final rub to Andy's palms and then moved back to sit with her daughter on the couch, leaving Andy to sit in the chair next to them.

"Caroline, there was something I wanted to talk to you about," the conductor began, taking one of her daughter's hands in hers.

The teenager was a bit spooked at first, but after seeing the warmth in her mother's eyes, she visibly relaxed.

"Mom, I get it. I'm not a kid anymore. You and Andy are dating, no reason to have an all-serious talk about it," Caroline offered with a grin and a dismissive hand-wave, so much like her mother's. "If you two are happy, I'm happy."

Andy's heart pounded heavily. Were her and Miranda actually dating? Wasn't it less than that? Wasn't it more? It felt like more, but they hadn't even gone on an actual date yet.

The conductor was smiling sweetly at her daughter and then embraced her and planted a big kiss on the girl's cheek.

"My darling, thank you. It means a lot to me, to hear that," she leaned back and took both of Caroline's hands. "But that's not really what I wanted to speak to you about."

Caroline gazed at her mother with renewed concern. "What's going on, mom?"

Andy watched as Miranda shyly looked at their hands, appearing insecure about what she was about to say. "Well... how would you feel... about coming back to live with me in New York?"

The teenager's eyes widened and she gaped at her mother. "Are you serious?"

Miranda nodded, with a cute, tentative smile on her lips that sent sweet ripples down Andy's spine. "Yes, I'm serious."

"Moooooooom!" Caroline pushed herself off the couch as fast as she could manage and lunged at Miranda, pushing the older woman against the armrest of the couch in a bone-crushing hug. "Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes!"

Andy's heart warmed as Miranda slung her arms around her daughter and rocked her from side to side, burying her face into the girl's neck with a happy chuckle.

Caroline pulled away and with the help of her mother, stood and eagerly reached for her crutches, "So, when do I move?"

"We were thinking next term," Marianne said from across the room and Caroline turned around and hobbled over to her grandmother.

"I'm sorry Grandma, I did not mean..." she hugged Marianne and the older woman enveloped the ecstatic girl in her arms.

"Darling, we know that. We think it's time for you to live with your mother again, and your grandfather and I will be quite alright."

"Yes, Sweetheart, don't worry about us!" Charles chimed in as he placed little eggnog glasses on the coffee table and then proceeded to wrap his arms around his granddaughter.

Andy watched all of this with a soft burning in her chest. She knew she was witnessing important, life-changing moments in these people's lives, and it warmed her soul that she was allowed to be a part of it. She glanced at Miranda and the radiant glow coming off the conductor, her eyes shining and her beautiful lips drawn in a relaxed smile, made the brunette's heart leap.

Of course Andy had experienced her fair share of erotic dreams involving Miranda, and she'd fantasised many times about spending time with the conductor outside their choir rehearsal, imagining what the woman behind the many protective walls was really like. But now that she actually saw the older woman, so warm and affectionate with her daughter, in the safety of her parents' house, something clicked inside of Andy.

She understood that her feelings for Miranda were stronger than anything she had ever felt before. She was in love with the forty-seven-year-old, extremely beautiful, sometimes cold and difficult, but secretly oh so wonderfully sweet conductor. Taking long, steadying breaths through her nose Andy attempted to get the raging fire inside her chest under control.

She would need to be alone with Miranda. And soon.

* * *

It was close to midnight and Caroline had gone to bed, the many excitements of the evening having taken their toll on the young girl and she had said goodnight, not without demanding that Andrea play more video games with her the following morning.

Miranda sat snuggled into the couch next to the brunette, her legs tugged under herself and a fresh cup of hot coffee on her lap. The four adults had commenced with an intriguing conversation about nineteenth century composers and their influence on art and literature, and the conductor had been pleasantly surprised by the vast knowledge Andrea possessed for her age.

_Her age,_ the conductor mused. Yes, there was a rather large age difference between them. Two decades was a long time. Andrea could be her daughter. Sheepishly Miranda looked to the side and watched as Andrea gave a passionate monologue about how much Clara Schumann had influenced her husband Robert's later compositions.

The journalist animatedly gestured with her hands and her face displayed a dozen different expressions as she went on about the underrated women composers of the Romantic Era. Miranda got lost in the young woman, in her voice, her movements, her slender neck and her full lips. She understood then, that things like their age gap did not matter. Andrea was beautiful, kind and wise beyond her years, and Miranda had a hard time coming up with any other reason why a relationship between the two of them would not work.

The brunette then turned her head to smile at Miranda and their gazes locked, pulling them into their own world of silly little grins.

"It's getting late, we will head off to bed," Charles said quietly, interrupting the two, who were so lost in their own universe.

Miranda felt her cheeks blush when her mother regarded her with a raised eyebrow and then gently pushed her husband out of the room with hurried goodnight wishes.

The conductor felt so utterly silly, sitting on her parents' sitting room sofa like a horny teenage boy, waiting for mom and dad to leave so he could get to second base with his girlfriend. She closed her eyes and lowered her head to pinch the bridge of her nose. Soft pressure on her knees forced her eyelids to flutter open and she watched as Andrea sheepishly trailed her shoeless toes over Miranda's pantyhose.

"Hi," the brunette whispered and gave another one of her shy waves and Miranda felt longing and desire brew behind her like a sea of mumbled whispers escaping a haunted forest, as she stood at the edge of a clearing, ready to leap toward the light. The low, murmured chorus of voices, lurking in the dark behind her and pushing against her, forced the tiny hairs on the back of her neck to stand and made one last attempt to pull her back in, trying to stop her from reaching out and escaping into the brightness that was Andrea.

"Come here," Miranda whispered huskily as she uncurled herself and pulled the glowing brunette tenderly to sit between her legs. Andrea sweetly draped her arms over the conductor's shoulders and loosely folded her knees around Miranda's middle, only to cross her ankles behind the older woman's back. It was a gentle and sweet hold but all Miranda could think off was their centres, so close to each other that she could feel the heat radiating from the brunette.

They didn't touch there, nor at their chests, but the knowledge of their close proximity and the faint heat buzzing against her, caused Miranda to be delirious with want. She looked deeply into Andrea's eyes and saw raw desire, sticky and heavy like honey seeping from the chocolate brown orbs. Miranda wasn't sure if it was her who was moving, or Andrea, but suddenly their faces where mere inches apart, and she could have sworn that small electric charges were jumping from the tip of her nose to Andrea's.

The tension between them was nearly unbearable and both their breathing had dramatically increased in just a matter of seconds. Miranda was overwhelmed by the force with which her body reacted. She had never felt this intense need to be close to somebody. Of course she'd felt physical desire before, but never coupled with the mind numbing longing to connect to someone else's soul.

Their lips were hovering impossibly close but neither moved the final inch and instead they leaned their foreheads together, with a long, mutual sigh. Andrea's lips curled up in a sweet grin and she whispered, "I think we should talk."

"Hmmm," Miranda hummed in agreement as she tenderly rubbed her elegant nose against the brunette's. Neither of them spoke first, which elicited another round of shy, mirrored giggles, until Miranda finally pulled herself together and tightened her hold around Andrea.

"I want to be with you," she breathed against those full lips that seemed to instinctively stretch into a wide smile at her words.

"And I with you," Andrea breathed back, nuzzling Miranda's cheek. "I want to know everything about you. All your joys, all your pains... I want you to share _everything_."

Miranda felt her eyes burn and inhaled deeply through her nostrils, Andrea's sweet scent filling her chest with reassurance and warmth.

"I want to hold you like this forever," the brunette continued. "To keep you safe. To cause you happiness."

The words echoed in the conductor's mind and she let her hand trail up Andrea's neck to gently stroke her long, brown tresses.

"Andrea..."

And then the younger woman's lips were on hers. Thick and slow, moving against her mouth as if to make sweet love through this slight connection of their bodies alone. The ticking of the grandfather's clock in the den was the only sound accompanying their soft smacking noises, and the blood rushing past her ears pushed Miranda into a surreal daze.

The brunette's bottom lip pushed between her own, slightly parted mouth, and Miranda began carefully sucking it, causing Andrea to moan and part her lips wider. Driven by the rush of arousal to her abdomen, the older woman determinedly ran the tip of her tongue along the entire length of Andrea's bottom lip and sucked on it more firmly. She felt the brunette shift against her as another moan left her throat.

"Hmmm... Miranda..."

Pulling a bit more forcefully at the nape of Andrea's neck, the conductor pulled their mouths firmly together and parted the younger woman's lips with her tongue, letting it slip into moist heat. She felt Andrea readily suck on the strong muscle and could not prevent a groan from bubbling up her throat. The sensation of a hot tongue on hers sent another ripple of arousal down her body she could practically feel herself pounding against her now entirely too restrictive underwear.

Andrea's arms pulled her closer and their breasts met in a collision of softness, causing another moan surging up in both of them, and their mouths opened wider around their dancing tongues, allowing for Miranda to pull Andrea in to her own mouth, rhythmically sucking and stroking the eager muscle.

She had never kissed anyone like this before. It was completely raw and open, baring it all to each other, through the mere meeting of mouths. This felt more intimate than anything Miranda had ever done with her ex-husband or college boyfriends. And more intimate than anything she had ever done with the only other woman, whom she had ever allowed touching her like this. Well, not touch her like _this_.

Miranda groaned when Andrea pulled her even closer, their heated groins sliding against each other, and the contact driving the conductor to the brink of insanity. It was too much, too fast. She did not want her first climax with Andrea to happen on her parents' cream-coloured couch, and she certainly was extremely close, any further touch would surely push her over the edge.

Torn between pushing at the brunette and pulling her even closer, Miranda could only manage a half-sob.

"An... Andrea..."

Somehow the younger woman understood, reading her so perfectly, and very slowly pulled away, breaking their kiss. Their breathing was ragged and irregular as their foreheads connected again, in an attempt to somehow find their bearings.

"Andrea..." Miranda whispered once more, a shaky hand cupping the brunette's reddened cheek.

"I don't want to rush it either, Miranda..." Andrea said softly, while tenderly rubbing her palms up and down the older woman's back. "Well, certain parts of me want to," she added with a smirk.

The playfulness in the younger woman helped the conductor relax and she buried her face in the curve of Andrea's slender neck and felt her lips smile against the smooth skin.

"We should go to bed, before we do anything... uhm... stupid," Andrea said with a cute smirk that completely soothed over Miranda's anxious nerves.

She chuckled. "You have such bright ideas."

* * *

Andy tossed and turned in the soft, warm and cozy bed. Marianne had offered her their most luxurious guest bedroom with en-suite bathroom and complimentary sleepwear and slippers. She had been amazed at the size of the guest quarters alone but the huge bathtub, separate shower and double sinks had blown her away. And this was only the bedroom for visitors.

The beauty of the room could, of course, not distract her from the symphony of emotions raging inside of her. The earlier moment with Miranda, on the sitting room couch, had left her restless and sticky. For a moment after she had slipped under the silk bed covers, she had considered helping herself, just to take the edge off and find some peace of mind. However the thought alone had felt like she had betrayed what her and Miranda had just shared, so she had decided on a cold shower instead.

Returning to the warm, comfy bed after ten minutes under a freezing stream of water should have quickly lulled her to sleep. She was an easy sleeper after all. Never one to lie awake for long, unless of course her mind was occupied by a certain white-haired conductor. As it was now.

She sighed and buried her face against the soft pillow she held in her arms. She'd really much rather be holding Miranda. Even if they were to turn it down a notch and simply snuggled. Then again, would they be able to do just that, without losing control and ravaging each other? Andy wanted to scream and groaned into the pillow instead. She had been so close, earlier. It would have taken next to nothing for Miranda to push her past the barrier.

But she had sensed reluctance in the older woman, and Miranda had been right. Their first time should not be in one of their parents' homes, with a teenage daughter sleeping upstairs, where they'd have to be quiet and restrained. Both of them were adults, with their own apartments, so the first time they'd have sex they would do it properly, in a bed, with their clothes off and taking all the time they needed.

Andy felt her cheeks burn at the thought of inviting Miranda over to her place for exactly that.

_Stop it!_ she internally chided herself. _Must sleep!_

The sound of the turning door knob pulled her from her inner ramblings and she held her breath, wide eyes staring into the darkness. She strained her ears to listen, her heart pounding heavily in anticipation. Who would it be? She hadn't heard the clacking of crutches, so Caroline was ruled out. Would Mr. or Mrs. Priestly make their rounds to see that no 'hanky panky' was going on in their house?

_Of course not, you idiot!_ Andy rolled her eyes at her silly thoughts.

"Andrea," it was clearly Miranda's voice. "Andrea, are you awake?"

The sweet voice reached out to her through the darkness and Andy turned around in the bed to face the door, the rustling of the sheets enough indication for her wakefulness. She heard Miranda pad quietly into the room and shut the door, before slowly walking around the bed and stopping by Andy's side.

Andy could just about make out the shape of Miranda, her silver hair reflecting the light shimmer of light that seeped in from beneath the blinds. She stood there for a few seconds, neither of them speaking, before Andy shyly cleared her throat.

"Can't sleep?"

Miranda remained silent but Andy could faintly see the silver head nod.

Overcome by affection for this ghostly nighttime visitor, the brunette scooted over, into the middle of the large bed and then lifted the corner of the covers.

"Come on. Get in."

Andy felt the bed shift as Miranda hesitantly slipped onto the mattress and under the covers. She shuffled next to the younger woman and Andy could feel the heat from her body just inches away. They lay facing each other in the darkness, the only sound their mingled breathing, until a cold foot tentatively touched Andy's.

"Jesus, Miranda! Your feet are ice lumps," the brunette hissed, but the older woman did not remove her frozen toes but instead added a second foot.

"Sorry," she whispered smugly into the night.

Andy let the icy burns slowly sink into her system until it no longer felt uncomfortable and then gently rubbed one of her toasty, warm feet over Miranda's.

"Why weren't you wearing slippers?" the brunette inquired as she drew the sole of her foot up and down Miranda's calves.

"Well... I didn't know I'd be pacing outside your room for minutes before finally having the courage to come inside, now did I?" the older woman admitted, her voice vulnerable and shy, but also trusting. Andy knew it took a lot for Miranda to admit to her worries and fears.

The brunette held Miranda's feet still between her own in an act of reassurance.

"You silly woman," Andy said lovingly. "I don't want you to ever feel like you need to be scared of entering a room I'm in."

"I was not _scared_," the older woman scoffed, but still allowed the warm ministrations to her lower limbs.

"I was merely concerned about waking you," she added softly.

Andy chuckled. "Well, there was no way I was going to sleep after... you know... earlier."

"Andrea... I didn't really come here for... _that_."

The brunette sought out and found Miranda's hands under the covers, and sweetly caressed the older woman's palms.

"I don't care why you're here, Miranda. I'm just glad that you are."

"Sweet-talker," Miranda sniffed, but Andy heard the grin in her tone.

They remained like that for while and the young journalist was content to just hold hands and feet with Miranda.

"Have you ever slept with another woman before?"

The question came out of nowhere and for a moment Andy was too stunned to answer.

"Uhm... I... uhm. No." The brunette answered shyly. "I've had two serious boyfriends... but I've had a fair amount of thoughts... about women..."

"Hmmm," Miranda seemed contemplative.

"You know... they were nothing... nothing like this. Us." Andy continued softly. "My ex-boyfriends. I always felt like there should be more. They were both sweet enough... just something... wasn't right. I wasn't in love."

The older woman began to trace slow circles on Andy's wrists.

"In hindsight, I think I've had plenty of crushes on women, it just never sunk in what that meant. You..." she paused, enjoying the soothing sensation of Miranda's thumbs on her arms. "You made me truly realise that I liked women... in _that_ way."

"Hmmm," the conductor gently stroked up and down Andy's lower arms. "That makes you a quicker study than me."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I didn't fully figure it out until I was unhappily married to the girls' father, Jacob." Miranda took a deep breath and her hands stilled on the younger woman's arms.

"We got divorced when the girls were seven. It should have been a picture book marriage. Our parents were old friends and Jacob had been romancing me for over a decade until I finally gave in and went on a date with him."

Andy reached up and took hold of the conductor's hands again, locking their fingers together between their chests. Her heart ached at the thought of Miranda with a man she wasn't happy with, both from jealousy and from compassion for the older woman's struggles.

"It was alright for a while, I got pregnant fairly quickly and had the girls to focus on. Once they were born, I had these two little sunshines in my life..." Miranda faltered and Andy shuffled closer to wrap her arms around the older woman's shoulders.

"Well, they made me less lonely and I finally felt loved. It was then that I realised that I was in a loveless marriage, and despite his weakness for alcohol, it wasn't all Jacob's fault. I simply could not love him the way I was supposed to."

The brunette pulled her tighter and Miranda snaked her arms under Andy's elbows and clung to her middle.

"Two years after my divorce I had finally admitted to myself that I had feelings for women. It took a lot of courage but after a few months and some help from Nigel," she gave a stifled laugh at the mention of her friend. "I went out to bars, while my girls stayed with my parents. I had told my Mom and Dad the truth, and although there were less than thrilled, they still supported me."

Andy placed sweet kisses on Miranda's temple, urging her to continue.

"One night I met this French woman, who had been eyeing me from the moment I had stepped into the bar. She began to actively woo me and I felt extremely charmed by the special attention she gave me."

The conductor sighed.

"We ended up in bed quickly after that and a whole new world opened up for me. I was forty-one and had only just discovered myself. I got lost in the pleasures... but it never felt enough."

Andy stilled her movements and just held Miranda tightly.

"She did things to me, physically, that I had never felt before. For the first time in my life I actually enjoyed being intimate with someone, and then I truly understood what I had been missing this whole time... however... I mistook my desire to be intimate with her for something more. We never did anything else but sleep together. She had no desire to get to know my children, or any other part of me."

Miranda's voice became very quiet.

"As soon as I was no longer her plaything, but a grieving mother in need of support, she left. Without looking back."

The brunette shuffled even closer and brought their middles together, entangling their legs in an attempt to show Miranda that she was safe with Andy. Her heart burned at the thought of Miranda being all alone at such a horrible time. How could anyone ever possibly turn their backs on Miranda?

"I don't think I loved her. I barely knew her... But I had allowed her to come between me and my girls, finding excuses for my parents to take the twins, and... on that fateful night, I even asked Jacob to drive them down here from their days with him, instead of picking them up myself, to make sure they were safe... just so I could..." she took another deep breath. "Indulge in my new-found identity..."

A ripple went up Miranda's back as Andy rubbed soothing circles through her silk nightgown.

"Miranda..." Andy whispered against the older woman's neck. "I'm not like that. You know that, right? I would never leave you at a time like that... I would never ask you to put me before Caroline, or anyone else you hold dear."

"I know, Darling. I know," Miranda whispered into Andy's long tresses and pulled the brunette firmly against herself.

_I love you,_ Andy wanted to say, but she felt like the moment was too vulnerable to take a chance at something that could potentially scare Miranda away. There was a mildly confident guess that Miranda loved her back, or would, over time, but now wasn't the moment to put that theory to the test.

"We should try and get some sleep," she whispered against Miranda's skin. "I have a bunch of rock concerts tomorrow. I need to regain my strength."

A hearty chuckle echoed through the dark room and the older woman rolled the brunette half on top of herself so that Andy's head could rest on her shoulder and one leg was lazily draped over Miranda's middle.

"Goodnight, Darling," she said with a final kiss to Andy's forehead.

"Goodnight, Miranda."

* * *

To be continued...


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Sorry for the long wait! The holidays were simply too busy for me to get any writing done. Now that life is more or less back to normal I can finally find the time to update this story again. I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's mostly Andy & Miranda alone-time. Well, it's actually lots of pointless, romantic fluff. Okay, so I got carried away a _little_... ^_^; We'll get back to the choir from the next chapter onward! I promise! ^_^

**A/N 2:** Oh and, btw, the song they're listening to in the end is called "The Vote" and it's from the soundtrack of "The Village", composed by James Newton Howard.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

The words on the screen swirled into a blurry heap and Andy leaned back in her chair with a sigh and rubbed her temples. It was Saturday the twenty-ninth and she was stuck at the _Mirror_, sitting out her own shift and simultaneously filling in for a colleague for the third day in a row. Normally the brunette would have welcomed the opportunity to dabble in copy-editing, however she was too utterly distracted by thoughts of a certain silver-haired choral director, to even find enough peace of mind to finish her own articles, let alone focus on page layouts.

She glanced at the polystyrene ceiling tiles and exhaled deeply enough to cause her bangs to flutter up and gently fall back across her forehead. She hadn't seen Miranda since Wednesday and Andy was surprised at how profoundly she missed the older woman's presence.

Waking up with Miranda in her arms had been a moment of illumination for the journalist. Feeling the gentle rise and fall of the conductor's chest against her palms, hearing the deep, peaceful breath and finding her nose buried in silken locks that smelled of honey and lilies, were definitely things that Andy wished to wake up to every single morning.

Then Miranda had stirred awake and snuggled back into the brunette's embrace with a happy sound that had reminded Andy of a lazy kitten stretching in the midday sun. They had cuddled like that for a few tender minutes before the older woman had slowly turned to face the journalist, and had sheepishly wished her a 'good morning'. They had gazed at each other sleepily and had shared goofy grins before leaning in for the sweetest collection of kisses.

Andy felt herself swoon a little at the memory and her chest expanded with the happiness that could only exist in one who was in love.

Startled by the sudden vibration of her cellphone next to her keyboard, the journalist jerked forward on her chair and hit her elbow on the edge of the desk.

"Shit, shit, shit..." She cursed and reached for the device with an unpleasant tingle in her fingers.

"Hey Sweetie. You alright?" Doug's warm voice travelled from the other end of the line.

"Dougie! Yeah, I'm okay... just bumped my 'funny bone'." She gingerly rubbed her arm. "So, what's up?"

"Well, I haven't heard from you since Christmas Eve, so I wanted to know how... things were going." The blatant curiosity in his voice was unmistakable and the journalist had to chuckle at her friend.

"You mean, you want the juicy details..." She teased him.

"Well, yeah, come on, Sweetie! You can't just blow me off to spend Christmas with the hottest lady on this planet and then not tell me about it!"

They both giggled and Andy leaned back in her chair again, thinking of the tender kisses her and Miranda had shared in the Porsche, before saying their goodbyes three days ago.

"Well," the journalist mumbled shyly while looking around at the empty desks in her proximity. "There isn't much to tell. I had a wonderful time..." she trailed off as her lips involuntarily spread into a wide grin.

"Wow, my little Pumpkin sounds so dreamy..." Andy heard Doug's sweet smile through the phone. "So... have you seen her again since then? Are you two... an item now?"

"Yeah, we are, Doug. We haven't had time to see each other, though, but we write emails and text messages." The journalist sighed and happily rubbed a hand over her stomach. "Miranda is so good with words, and it's nice to finally have real, in-depth, adult conversations with someone..."

"Andy, I'm hurt..." her friend scoffed playfully.

"Aw, Dougie... you know what I mean!" She giggled. "We have so many things in common, and even when our opinions differ, she has an open mind and listens to what I have to say..."

"Hmmm," Doug hummed thoughtfully.

"What?"

"I'm happy for you, Sweetie. Really, really happy." He said seriously.

"But...?"

"Oh, no 'but'. Just... well, you know, as your best friend I only have your best interest in mind. And this... you and Miranda... it sounds serious, so of course I'm cautious. I don't want you to get hurt."

Andy felt the urge to crawl through the phone and hug him.

"Thanks Dougie. That means a lot to me. But you don't have to worry. I have a very good feeling about Miranda and I. I think... I think I'm in love with her..." Her heart hammered wildly, as it was the first time she had spoken the words out loud.

"Well, duh, Pumpkin..."

"No, Dougie, I mean... I truly love her. I think..." She took a deep sigh, trying to calm the emotions speeding through her veins. "I think, she's the One."

There was a moment of silence and Andy worried that her friend had hung up. "Dougie?"

"Yeah, I'm still here," emotion coloured his gentle voice. "I just... I want to give you a big hug. When are you free to come over? We need to celebrate!"

The brunette smiled and looked at the clock on her computer screen.

"Well, I have a hot date tonight..." She heard Doug whistle and had to chuckle. "But maybe tomorrow evening? I will bring coffee!"

"Deal. See you then. Bye Sweetie."

"Bye Doug!"

"Oh, and Pumpkin. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Andy snorted. "Okay, all things go. Gotcha!" They hung up giggling.

Looking back at her unfinished article, the journalist gathered whatever mental discipline she had left, and began finishing her work.

* * *

Miranda paced the hardwood floors of her living room as the lively _allegro_ of Vivaldi's 'Four Seasons' began echoing from the speakers of her home entertainment system. The conductor had selected several different CDs in the past half hour, debating as to the best choice of music for the evening. She had decided against one of her favourites, Dvorak's Cello Concerto, for being too heavy for dinner and Rachmaninov's second Piano Concerto was just a tad too dramatic.

No, the best choice for a romantic meal was always Vivaldi.

For the third time in ten minutes she checked the dining table, making sure the silver cutlery was meticulously aligned, the napkins properly folded into blossoms and the long, ivory candles secure in their Art Nouveau holders. Miranda wanted everything to be perfect.

She subconsciously fingered her necklace as she looked around the room. Nothing was out of place, the lights were already dimmed, the curtains drawn and the delicious scent of freshly-delivered prime steak from 'Smith & Wollensky' wafted from the kitchen, ready to be served. All that was missing was Andrea.

It would be the first time since she had purchased the apartment two years ago, that anyone other than her parents and her housekeeper would set foot into her home. Miranda was nervous, but thrilled at the same time. She wondered what the brunette would think of her taste. Would she think it too old-fashioned?

Hmmm. Maybe Vivaldi wasn't the right choice after all.

When she was just about to walk back to her CD collection the doorbell rang, and for a short few seconds Miranda stood frozen to the spot, heart pounding violently, as she tried to calm her raging emotions._Breathe..._ she chided herself. It was just dinner with the person who owned her heart. And who would hopefully, by the end of the evening, also own her body...

The conductor exhaled sharply and strode into the hallway. Checking her hair in the mirror one final time, she reached for the door knob.

Andrea's warm eyes were the first, and also the only things she saw for a moment. She realised just how much she had missed looking at the younger woman and made a mental note to ask the brunette for a photograph.

"Hi," Andrea spoke softly as she gave a shy wave and that adorable, sweet smile.

Feeling her own lips twitch into a grin, Miranda extended her hand and drawled, "Andrea."

Cold, but soft fingers found hers and she pulled the brunette inside. As soon as she had managed to close the door, Miranda cupped Andrea's cheek and brought their faces together. Their lips met, tentatively at first, but soon the journalist's tongue was in her mouth and the conductor pushed her back against the wall with a moan. She immediately felt complete again. Home. Andrea's unique, sweet scent filled her nostrils and she let their tongues dance gently until the scarf and thick coat that Andrea was still wearing kept distracting her and Miranda reluctantly pulled away.

Glassy deep-browns peered into her soul and the conductor had a hard time calming her breathing.

"Hi," Andrea said again with a mixture of shyness and a little mischief, and Miranda felt her own smile widen almost painfully.

"Hi," she replied like a giddy schoolgirl. "Here, let me take your coat." Their skin brushed as the brunette handed over her red and white striped scarf and Miranda curled her fingers into the soft wool, relishing the memory of that night outside the theatre.

"Maybe I should give you that scarf," Andrea spoke softly as she shrugged out of her coat. "Although, I don't really think it's your style," she added with a smirk.

Studying the soft accessory in her hand, the conductor grew thoughtful. "You know... that night... that was the sweetest and single most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me. I will cherish that memory forever." She felt Andrea step closer and looked back up into her loving gaze.

"Then keep it. Please." The brunette leaned over for a brief, but sweet kiss and Miranda then turned to hang up Andrea's coat with a lightness to her heart she could not recall ever feeling before. With an insistent, silly grin she folded the scarf and placed it on the dresser below the hallway mirror, where she would be sure to see it every single day.

"Come," she then spoke softly while pulling at the younger woman's hand. "Dinner is waiting."

* * *

The sensation of Miranda's soft fingers tightly locked with hers travelled up Andy's spine and filled her chest with a comfortable warmth. She let herself be pulled into what appeared to be a combination of living room and dining room, but she had a hard time taking in her surroundings when all she could focus on was the way Miranda's hips swayed in that tight, dark red pencil skirt, and how the subtle muscles below her shoulder blades flexed under the white blouse with its impossibly low-cut back. As usual the conductor's outfit was completed by a pair of - no doubt hideously expensive - high heels, in matching red suede.

Andy had to swallow hard and the older woman must have been privy to the journalist's thoughts because she abruptly stopped and turned to face her with a raised eyebrow and an intense glimmer in her eyes.

"I hope you're hungry," she drawled and there was no way that Miranda hadn't meant that in more ways than one. Andy felt her cheeks heat up with a profound blush which seemed to please the older woman and earned the brunette another knee-weakening smile.

Although Christmas had paved a significant foundation of honesty and soul-sharing between them, it had also left Andy yearning for Miranda physically, and the past three nights in her lonely bed had been pure torture. They had refrained from anything but kisses after the incident on the conductor's parents' sitting room sofa and although they had exchanged a fair amount of emails and texts in the past seventy-two hours, they had somehow mutually kept their topics of conversation away from anything remotely erotic. There had seemed to be the unspoken agreement between them that they would wait. Until tonight.

Miranda looked at her knowingly and seemed to hesitate for a moment, hovering between leaning in and stepping away. Andy knew that if the older woman kissed her now and pulled her close, they would never make it until dinner. So she watched with relief as the conductor turned around and led her to the beautifully-set table.

"Please, sit." The older woman offered sweetly, gesturing to one of the dining chairs.

Andy felt thoroughly spoiled, but the idea of Miranda waiting on her didn't sit right, so she tightened her hold on the conductor's hand and dabbed her lashes.

"Miranda, I want to help."

Somehow the idea of assisting the older woman in the kitchen held a large appeal. It seemed domestic and comforting. Miranda slightly pursed her lips, tilted her head back and regarded her through narrowed eyes, as if making up her mind whether to hold on to romancing the journalist or giving in to the request.

"Please?"

Apparently even the 'Snow Queen' wasn't quite immune to Andy's pleading face and she relented with a soft nod into the direction of the kitchen and pulled the brunette along.

"I had our food delivered." Miranda said matter-of-factly when they entered the kitchen.

The space was the size of at least half of Andy's own apartment and although it was equipped with state-of-the-art appliances, Andy could tell that the older woman did not make a habit of cooking for herself. There were no herbs and spices near the oven, and no strategically placed wooden spoons or kitchen towels in reaching distance.

It was a beautiful kitchen. The solid wood cabinets were lacquered a soft magnolia and stood in calming harmony with the sky blue wall and crispy white woodwork that framed the doorway and windows. It should have felt warm and cozy but Andy couldn't shake the feeling that it lacked something. It needed to be lived and cooked it.

Andy couldn't shake the image of standing behind the large stove in her pyjamas, making breakfast for Miranda an Caroline. She returned her gaze to the older woman and was greeted with a tiny smirk.

"What?" The brunette felt self-conscious for a second.

"Nothing. Just enjoying you being here, in my kitchen." Miranda said quietly while eying Andy's lips and gently stroking the younger woman's palm with her thumb. The brunette wanted nothing more than to push the older woman against the counter and kiss her, but she also wanted to at least make it through dinner without letting her carnal instincts take over.

Sending Miranda another sweet smile she said, "I seem to remember you mentioning food."

"Oh, right."

A few food containers were stacked on the cherry wood counter and Miranda let go of Andy's hand to retrieve two plates from a cabinet. They didn't speak as the conductor opened the Styrofoam box and divided its steaming contents over the two dishes with utmost concentration. The image of the older woman handling food so delicately stirred something new in Andy's heart. Miranda seemed to be elegant and precise in everything she did and Andy had not thought she would ever be this fascinated by someone taking steak and a few shrimp from a plastic container and arranging them so lovingly on the white porcelain plates.

She sighed while trying her hardest not to hug the older woman from behind. Miranda was utter perfection.

* * *

The tension accompanied them through their meal and although the conductor enjoyed their conversation about modern day composers versus the classic geniuses, the predatory urges in the back of her head made her keep a close eye on how Andrea's full lips devoured each bite of premium steak.

The younger woman was passionately discussing the importance of film soundtracks in the world of music and Miranda watched as Andrea's eyes glazed over with that shiny spark she would always got when she was singing or discovering something beautiful. It made the conductor's chest ache with love. How was it possible that she had found a kindred spirit in someone so much younger? The sensation of finally allowing herself to deserve this moment of bliss after everything she'd been through, still overwhelmed her a little, and she set down her knife and fork to bask in Andrea and their togetherness.

"I still can't believe you have never heard of composers like Hans Zimmer, Danny Elfman or John Williams. What about Yann Tiersen or James Newton Howard?" Andrea's eyes narrowed on her as if she truly doubted Miranda's sincerity.

"No, I can't say that I have, Andrea," she replied while lazily resting her chin on her clasped hands, intently studying the brunette's stunned expression.

"Well, you're missing out, Miranda! I will copy my soundtrack collection to your iPod." Andrea offered enthusiastically. "There are even a few pieces our choir could sing. You will love them, I promise."

"Hm-hmm," the older woman simply murmured. It wasn't like she had no interest in what Andrea was saying. She truly wanted to broaden the horizon of her musical appreciation. However right now she was too distracted with appreciating the brunette across from her. Although she still stood by her decision to not go further than cuddles and kisses back at her parent's house, she cursed the fact that they hadn't seen each other for three days, leaving her restless and with an mind-numbing longing to finally feel and taste all of Andrea.

Just a few months ago she hadn't even considered ever having another relationship again, let alone wanting someone so bad that it physically hurt. She had truly believed that she would never be able to allow herself to lose control like that again. That the pain and guilt over losing Cassidy would forever haunt her, preventing her from letting anyone close. She had never expected the privilege of finally finding true love and being with someone who helped mend her broken heart and soul, and made her feel so comfortable and at home, that she could freely let her desires reign without the fear of the intensity blinding her.

She knew that she was safe with Andrea and that certainty only fed her primal urges to lunge across the table and crush the younger woman against herself.

"Miranda? Aren't you hungry? You've barely eaten."

She was sure the involuntary smile on her face must have looked quite predatory, because Andrea swallowed hard and put down her own cutlery.

"No. Not exactly... hungry." Miranda drawled the last word and watched in delight as the brunette's soft cheeks began radiating in a delicate shade of pink.

"Uhm..." Andrea gingerly dabbed at her lips with the napkin and then placed the cloth next to her plate to signal that she was finished with the food as well. They gazed at each other, the severe magnetic force between them pulling at their chests and jolting their hearts into a frantic stumble. Miranda felt her abdomen clench at the sight before her. The brunette looked raw and open, and was not even trying to hide her blatant desire anymore. That was it. A hundred dollars worth of delicious beef and seafood would just have to go to waste.

Miranda reached for her wine glass to take one final sip before setting it back down with a slight tremble to her fingers and then stood, offering her hand to the flustered journalist.

"I think we're done eating. Come, sit with me."

* * *

Andy seemed to float inside a giant ball of cotton. Somewhere in the distance she could still hear the faint notes of Vivaldi's "Winter" but the predominant sounds were her hammering heart and the blood rushing through her head. In a daze she reached for Miranda's hand and let the older woman pull her up from her chair and over to the sitting area.

It was simply insane that another human being could make her feel this way. If this was what true love felt like, then she finally understood the big deal. She wanted to write songs about it and scream it from the rooftops. She had always been rather uninspired with her ex-boyfriends but had put it down to her lack of passion when it came to physical intimacy. Now she knew, though, that passion was the last thing she was missing. It practically consumed her now, raging through her body like a hot fever, setting everything in its path ablaze with the need to be closer to Miranda.

The older woman sat down quietly in one corner of the sofa and opened her arms for Andy to join her. It took every ounce of willpower she had left not to pounce on the conductor, and she somehow managed to take a seat and gently lean against Miranda with a strangled sigh. The older woman folded her arm around Andy's shoulder to pull her closer and the brunette angled herself in a way that allowed her to hug Miranda's middle. She shivered and felt a gentle hand reassuringly caress her hair.

"Are you alright?" Miranda asked softly.

Andy nodded her head where it rested against the older woman's collar bone and let out another sigh.

"Yes. I'm just... overwhelmed."

"Hmmm." She could hear the smile on Miranda's lips and hugged her tighter as the long fingers kept playing in her hair, tenderly stroking through the brown locks. "You're not the only one," the older woman added in a quiet murmur.

The deep breath that Andy took felt oddly restricted in her lungs and her stomach muscles clenched, trying to help ease the tension in her chest.

"I feel like I'm about to faint," she mumbled slightly embarrassed which earned her a chuckle from Miranda.

"Well, we can't have that now, can we?"

Gentle fingers lifted her chin and forced her to look into smokey blues. The conductor's thumb brushed lightly over her mouth and out of reflex Andy's tongue darted out to lick her dry lips. Miranda's gaze was glued to the action and she slowly snaked her hand around the brunette's neck to pull her into a kiss. They tried to keep it light and unhurried, being too aware of the fact that if they gave in and rushed, it would be over far too soon.

Miranda's lips were soft and tasted of Bordeaux, steak and coriander and Andy allowed her tongue to delve into the conductor's warm mouth, seeking out its twin muscle and beginning a slow, sensual dance. The older woman gave a muffled moan and pulled the brunette even closer, tenderly playing with a few strands that had escaped Andy's messy ponytail at the nape of her neck.

The journalist was completely lost in the flood of sensations. Miranda smelled heavenly. The distinct perfume which had lured Andy ever since that first evening outside of _Starbucks_ was now mixed with the sweet scent of skin, soap and something faintly musky. The conductor kept making small noises in the back of her throat as she set out to devour the younger woman's mouth and Andy suddenly realised that Miranda was incredibly turned on. _Oh my god. I can smell her..._

The unmistakable rush of fluid between her own thighs caused Andy to nearly gasp out loud, but the prospect of losing contact with the older woman's mouth, for even just a second, made the brunette clamp down her lips and forcefully suck on Miranda's tongue instead. The resulting groan still forced them apart for much-needed air and they held each other in a daze of heaving chests and flushed cheeks.

* * *

_To hell with taking it slow,_ Miranda thought as she committed Andrea's disheveled state to memory. She needed to feel the younger woman on her. Now.

Gently shoving the suddenly alarmed brunette away, Miranda turned around so that she could lean against the cushioned armrest, only to then forcefully pull Andrea back and on top of her. She wriggled her legs under the younger woman and now they were lying flush together, along the entire length of the sofa. Andrea's weight on top of her was delicious and she grabbed at the brunette's head to pull her in for another kiss.

While their tongues battled as if it were a matter of life and death, Miranda let her fingers slowly trail up and down Andrea's back and she could feel the heat seeping through the thin fabric of the journalist's blouse. She plunged deeper into the younger woman's mouth and Andrea moaned and pressed her hips down more firmly, allowing Miranda enough space to reach for the hem of silk and slip under the garment. Andrea's skin was smooth and supple and her back arched as the conductor slowly slid her palms upward.

A loud groan escaped the younger woman's lips and Miranda took her chance to latch onto Andrea's jaw and throat. She tasted of vanilla and cinnamon, of sweet promises and happiness. When the conductor placed an open-mouthed kiss at Andrea's pulse point and began sucking, the brunette moaned again and started to writhe in her arms.

"Mi-Miranda... ungh.. I ca-can't... "

Feeling the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up in alarm the older woman pulled away.

"What?" She couldn't keep the sudden fear from her voice. If Andrea rejected her now she would surely die.

The wave of terror subsided immediately when the brunette leaned forward and sweetly rubbed her nose against Miranda's.

"You skirt... it's in the way... I was trying to make it move..."

Miranda's heart threatened to break at the utterly adorable expression on Andrea's face, with lips so swollen and her hair a complete mess from when the conductor had mussed it.

"... but it won't budge because I'm lying on it," the brunette added shyly, but with unabridged longing and want shimmering in her darkened eyes.

With a full-hearted giggle, the likes of which hadn't left her throat in decades, Miranda removed her hands from the younger woman's blouse and gently pressed against her sides. Understanding the gesture, Andrea rose a little and allowed Miranda to lift her own hips. Not waiting for an invitation the journalist then slid her hands along Miranda's legs and slowly but firmly pushed up the dark red skirt until the expensive fabric was bunched up carelessly around her middle. Normally Miranda would have been annoyed at the disrespect for her designer attire but as Andrea attacked her mouth again and slowly began to lower both of them back down, all coherent thought left her.

When the younger woman used a knee to nudge Miranda's legs apart, the sudden cold air against her centre made her realise just how ready she was. This was it. There was no going back. This was her first sexual encounter since that fateful day five years ago and Andrea's first experience with a woman, so Miranda knew that their first time should be slow and special, skin on skin and in a bed with the softest of satin sheets. However feeling the demanding force in Andrea's kisses and the thunderous hammering of her own heart, Miranda realised that it truly didn't matter. Any time with the younger woman would be special.

She firmly grabbed at Andrea's butt and pulled their centers back together causing both of them to moan in unison at the contact, breaking their kiss. Even through the fabric of her slacks the brunette was hot against the conductor's thigh and Miranda rolled her hips up and against her out of reflex.

"Ugh... M-miranda..."

She felt Andrea shudder and bury her face in the crook of her neck where warm lips locked onto her damp skin.

"Oh, Darling," Miranda heard herself whisper, overwhelmed by the reality of this beautiful and wondrous, young woman lying in her arms, ablaze with want for _her_. Keeping one hand firmly pressed against the brunette's backside she slid up her other palm and began caressing Andrea's neck. She wanted to feel her, touch her in all those intimate places, but she couldn't bear the thought of separating for even a second in order to sneak a hand between them. Instead, she slowly propped up her thighs, intensifying the pressure against both their centres.

"Oh," Andrea whimpered and automatically pushed her knee more firmly between the conductor's legs.

Miranda wasn't sure who had started it, but they had begun to grind against each other in a slow rhythm. The younger woman curled one arm around Miranda's shoulder and let the other hand travel down to one side of her behind, which was now only covered by the thin satin layer of her La Perla briefs. Feeling the nimble fingers press into her barely covered flesh with each unified roll of their hips brought the older woman dangerously close to the edge and she roughly held on to Andrea, refusing to leave her behind.

The CD had finished playing and besides the faint evening traffic on the streets below, the only sounds in the room were their ragged breathing and the rustle of their clothes. Miranda let her hand slide between the younger woman's butt cheeks and stroked as far down as she could reach. She could feel the dampness against Andrea's pants and the slight shudder that went through her lithe body at the contact.

"Miranda..." was exhaled hotly against her throat and she nuzzled Andrea's silken tresses as their thrusts became more frantic.

"Oh... yessss, Darling," she hissed as soon as the brunette's movements turned jerky. And then their thighs locked around each other in a tight squeeze as they reached their peaks simultaneously, hips rolling together, wave after ecstatic wave until they pressed against each other in a final languid push. Miranda did not release her firm grip on the younger woman as their bodies slowly relaxed and she sweetly threaded her fingers through Andrea's hair. Their chests heaved together as their breathing calmed and the journalist placed small, but sweet kisses against the conductor's jaw line.

After several minutes of quiet tenderness, Andrea gave one final squeeze to the softness of the older woman's butt and then raised her head to look into Miranda's eyes. The love shining in her gaze took Miranda's breath away and she gently cupped the brunette's cheeks and brought her down for the sweetest of all kisses.

"Hmmm," she felt Andrea smile into the kiss.

"Hmmm?" she asked as the younger woman slightly pulled away to press the tip of her nose to Miranda's.

"Yes. Hmmm! Wow! Holy crap!" Andrea elaborated while grinning down at her and lazily combed her fingers through the conductor's soft hair.

They smiled at each other and kissed again.

"I'm sorry, Darling." Miranda said softly while brushing the bangs from the brunette's forehead.

"Sorry? For what? That was the most amazing thing I have ever experienced in my life!" Andrea shifted slightly, pressing their centers back together which sent tiny shock waves down both their spines.

"Hmmm. Yes, but it could have been even better if we had managed to get our clothes off first." She flinched slightly at the thought of her ruined skirt but the mischievous grin on the younger woman's lips distracted her thoroughly.

"Well, it's a good thing then that we're not done yet, huh?" Andrea whispered seductively as she leaned down for another kiss.

"My, my. I've created a monster," the conductor murmured as she rubbed her palms up and down the brunette's back.

"I'm all yours, Frankenstein."

* * *

Andy woke to the wonderful sensation of sun rays tickling her nose and she carefully blinked her eyes open, worried that the luxurious feelings of contentment, warmth and happiness were nothing but a dream. As she fully took in her surroundings she realised that this was reality and not just a delicious fantasy. She was indeed in Miranda's bed, waking uncharacteristically late, after a glorious night of the best sex she could have ever possibly imagined. Becoming aware of the sleep-heavy limbs across her unclothed midriff she resisted the urge to stretch and instead turned her head to gaze upon the sleeping beauty in her arms.

The conductor normally already appeared a lot younger than her actual age, but now her features looked so youthful and at peace that the silver locks framing her gorgeous face seemed completely out of place, reminding Andy of an angel or a fairy. She listened to Miranda's deep, even breathing and watched as the sunlight, that had sneaked a few beams through a gap in the curtains, painted beautiful patterns across the older woman's pale skin. Her chest burned with love at the sight and she reached out to tenderly brush a disobedient lock of hair from Miranda's forehead.

"Ugh," the conductor grumbled sleepily before snuggling deeper into Andy's side and nuzzling her neck. The journalist couldn't suppress the giggle that shook through her body at how adorable Miranda was in this state, and how much it lay in contrast to the passionate beast she had experienced the night before. She lifted her head a little and was greeted by slightly pursed lips and a raised eyebrow.

"What's so funny?" Miranda asked, a little hoarsely.

Andy presented her with a wide grin and sweetly stroked through her hair.

"You. You're so cute when you're sleepy."

That earned her a sharp, narrowed gaze and a pursing of the lips so dramatic that it could have easily passed as a pout. Quickly leaning down to capture the defiant mouth Andy curled her leg around Miranda and slowly stroked her heel up and down the back of the older woman's leg.

"Good morning," she whispered as she pulled away.

"It will be. Once I've had my coffee," Miranda said a little flustered but still keeping the narrowed gaze in place.

"Hmmm. How about something better than coffee?" Andy lowered her eye lashes and let her hands roam over the creamy suspense of the conductor's bare back.

"Better than coffee? Don't be ridiculous, Andrea!" The older woman huffed, but not without a thick layer of mischief colouring her voice.

"I mean, what ever could you possibly have in mind?" She added, propping herself up on her elbows and trying very hard to keep a straight face as she intently studied the naked chest below her. They held their positions for a few seconds before their eyes met and they clashed together in a tightly entwined heap of laughter.

When she had first met Miranda more than a month ago it had never crossed Andy's mind that she would end up rolling around in a bed, firmly pressed to the conductor's naked form in a happy morning giggle fit. They came to a rest with Andy pinning the older woman to the mattress, both wheezing for breath, their legs slung around each other and their groins pressing together deliciously.

"Screw the coffee," Miranda scoffed and pulled at Andy's neck to crush their lips together in a searing kiss.

* * *

Noon found Miranda and her young love entering a surprisingly sunny, but cold Central Park, where a thick layer of snow still covered the meadows, trees and bushes. A group of skaters played ice hockey on the frozen surface of a nearby lake and the conductor noted how busy the main paths of the park were. Then again, it was Sunday, a beautiful winter's day, the sky was blue and the air crisp and clear. _And life is good..._ She sighed quietly while squeezing the warm hand in hers and looking over at Andrea.

The sound of children laughing in the distance gnawed at the corner of her heart but it no longer filled her with sadness. The brunette seemed to catch the direction of her thoughts and sweetly caressed her palm as they kept on walking through the snow.

"So, you're not going to tell me where we are going, Andrea?" She said, hoping that her annoyance at not knowing all the details of their little outing would show through her large Prada sunglasses.

"I told you, Miranda. We're going for a walk in the park." The brunette presented her with a sweet and completely disarming smile. "Come on."

Andrea gently tugged her along the main gravel path and after a few minutes they veered off, onto what appeared to be a smaller side trail. At least Miranda hoped that there was a trail somewhere under all that snow because they were heading up a hill, and slipping and falling certainly was not her agenda for today.

They reached the top of the low hill and Andrea proceeded to guide her down the other side, into a modest grove of leafless oak trees that sat cozily nestled between several other snow-covered mounds. There wasn't much sun as it was blocked by the branches and soft swells of the earth around them and the air immediately felt chillier. The barrier of earth shielded them from most of the park's lively noise and Miranda felt enchanted by this deserted and peaceful place.

"Andrea, this is beautiful," she whispered as they stopped next to a bench, amidst the gnarly trees. The brunette turned around with a radiant smile and pulled the older woman into a warm hug. With a brief peck to Miranda's lips, she then pulled away again and rummaged in her bag. She pulled out a soft hand brush and the conductor watched in awe as Andrea cleared the several inches of snow off the bench before retrieving a large black towel, folding it in half and placing it across the backrest and seating area.

She then plopped down and patted the spot beside her while sending Miranda a nervous smile. Torn between laughing at the ridiculous reality of the younger woman actually getting her sit on a park bench, in _winter_, or melting into a puddle at the adorable sight of Andrea with her hideously adorable over-sized beanie hat and beautifully shimmering eyes looking at her so expectantly, the conductor opted to simply take a seat and shuffle as close to the brunette as possible.

"Okay, so you know I promised, I'd copy all my music to your iPod?" The younger woman began as she opened her bag again.

Miranda nodded. Yes, there was something vaguely sounding like that in her fuzzy memory of the previous night's dinner conversation, the one which she had spent lusting after Andrea instead of properly paying attention.

"So, this morning, when you were taking a shower, I used your laptop to create a play-list for us. So uhm... here you go." The brunette handed her the device. "Put these earphones on."

Eying the little white plugs with suspicion Miranda raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Please, Miranda. Humor me. I wish to share something with you," Andrea pleaded sweetly, and the older woman reached out to brush the bangs from the journalist's forehead and tucked them gently under the rim of the green wool.

"Alright." She accepted the cable and fitted the tiny speakers to her ears. "Now what?"

Andrea held up her index finger and rummaged in her bag again. Pulling out another iPod, apparently her own, judging by the small cherry blossom stickers lining the side, she placed both devices next to each other on her lap and proceeded to click and scroll through the menus.

"Okay, so this is one of the movie scores I really, really love. Remember what we talked about yesterday?"

The conductor nodded slowly, absolutely certain that she did, in fact, not remember a single word.

"Good. So just listen and let the music speak to you, alright?"

Giving what she hoped was a sincere and encouraging smile, Miranda watched as Andrea simultaneously pushed the play buttons on both iPods and then grabbed the conductor's hand and reclined against the high backrest.

The soft ringing of a piano and tentative strokes of a harp began introducing a melody that was soon picked up by a single, most melancholic violin. Soon a whole ensemble of strings joined in and Miranda mimicked the brunette in leaning back against the towel-covered bench and staring out at their surroundings. The sound enveloped her immediately and she could feel goosebumps forming on her arms. There seemed to be sorrow and longing in this piece of music, but also a certain assertive take on reality.

It appeared to be written with the near-comatose, yet achingly beautiful barrenness of a winter forest in mind and as she watched her own breath ascent in small swirls of condensation into the deep blue sky, she felt a tightening of Andrea's hand in hers. She looked over and the brunette's eyes were full of wonder and fascination and Miranda understood then, that they appeared to both be moved by the same harmonics, by the same words in the language of music.

Tenderly drawing circles with her thumb against the back of Andrea's cold hand, the conductor leaned over to kiss the brunette's temple and then rested her head on the younger woman's shoulder as they continued to take in their surroundings, listening to the delicate weaving of solo violin, piano, harp and assorted strings, soon joined by the soft and distant hum of french horns.

The sun broke through the bare canopy of the oaks before them and teasingly caressed their chilled face. As the trees slowly swayed in the gentle winds the sun rays burst into a dozen little sparkles where they broke against the ice crystals on the numerous, dark branches. Miranda felt as if she had jumped into a nineteenth-century oil painting of a winter landscape and her chest felt heavy with affinity and wonder.

She noticed that the younger woman's hand grew colder and without thinking she pushed their joined fingers into her own coat pocket where the thick fur would keep them warm. Andrea snuggled closer and Miranda watched in awe as a flock of birds flew soundlessly above their heads. She smiled as she finally recalled the younger woman's words from the previous day.

_'Some of the music written as movie scores, is actually like a soundtrack to life. It is often more subtle than, for example, a pompous, standalone symphony composed by an eighteenth-century virtuoso. But there is an abundance of beauty right there, in the background of even some of the crappiest movies. To most people, however, it's just a fleeting touch to their subconsciousness and they don't realise why a specific scene makes them feel a certain way, because it doesn't register that the music tells its own story. It's unfortunate that modern-day composers need to fall back on writing for motion pictures, because society is not willing to accept new talents in between the ranks of Beethoven and Mozart, Chopin or Rachmaninov. They are, however, still people who feel that music exists in everything around us and they are very skilled in bringing it across. You just need to know where to look for the true gems.'_

The conductor felt her eyes tear up as she realised just how much she had in common with Andrea. There was this deeply rooted understanding and appreciation of music that bound them together. The sorrow of the past five years had taken some of that away from Miranda, as she had closed herself off from everything and everyone, but the young woman, snuggled so sweetly against her side on a secluded park bench on this particularly breathtaking winter day, had brought it all back, even somehow intensifying it.

Once the song was over, Miranda paused both players and removed her earphones. The brunette gazed at her quizzically, but with a serenity on her features that revealed that she had been with the conductor on her journey through winter's beauty. Overcome with the richness of her emotions Miranda gently freed the younger woman's ears from the tiny speakers and cupped Andrea's cheeks.

"I love you."

It wasn't a really a statement, nor was it a question. The truth had already existed between them, although never uttered aloud. It was more like a promise and a perfect capture of the moment. And even then those three words felt oddly inadequate.

Andrea, however, beamed at her as if she carried the sun itself inside her chest. She leaned into Miranda's touch and whispered shyly, "I love you, too."

* * *

To be continued...


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Sorry that it took a bit longer. Been busy and I had to take a small break because of my shoulder problems. ^_^; Also, I proof-read and edit my own stories so each chapter takes extra long to begin with. Hope you like it, and happy reading!

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Andy cursed as she stumbled and fell on the slippery sidewalk in front of the community centre. She was already late for rehearsal, and although she had sent Miranda two apologetic text messages she didn't want to inconvenience the conductor, especially since they had agreed to still keep their relationship a secret from the rest of the choir. She gingerly rubbed her knee where it would certainly sport a charming new bruise the following day and winced at the pain in her hand.

"Ouch!"

She scrambled up and resisted the urge to suckle at her painful palm. With a few hurried strides she managed to push through the main doors and into the waiting lift without further complications. She attempted to calm her breathing, pulled off her beanie hat and studied herself in the dirty elevator mirror.

Her hair was a mess and she looked completely exhausted. It was the second of January and Andy had just finished a tiring double shift, as had been her bargain with her boss in order to be able to spend the previous two days with Miranda.

A goofy grin escaped her at the memory of how exactly they had celebrated the arrival of the new year. The final countdown toward 2008 had been spent by Andy moaning from the skilled ministrations of the older woman's tongue and lips and the tickle of the conductor's soft hair against her thighs. Needless to say, they had barely gotten any sleep and the previous night without Miranda by her side had been equally restless. So now Andy was running on nothing but an unhealthy amount of caffeine.

Ruffling her bangs she shook her shoulders lose with a sigh and darted out of the elevator as soon as the doors slid open. The choir was already practicing and when Andy opened the creaky door to the auditorium at least a dozen heads shot up from their sheet music and watched her hurry down the aisle between the seats. Miranda stood at the front of the stage with her back to the brunette. They hadn't seen each other since the previous afternoon and Andy struggled to keep her eyes off the conductor's luscious backside in that tight, navy pencil skirt.

"Did I say you could stop?" Miranda spoke calmly but with the typical chill to her voice and, no doubt, in her gaze, and the singers immediately returned their attention to the older woman. Andy quickly placed her bag on a nearby chair, shrugged out of her coat and tiptoed onto the stage as swiftly as possible. She didn't look at Miranda as she rushed past and took her position next to Emily, who gave an annoyed sniff.

"Now. Again. From the beginning," the silver-haired woman instructed and raised her hands. Andy peered down on the sheet Emily was holding and had to smile as she saw the title. She looked up at Miranda and their gazes met as the conductor signalled the choir to begin. There was no noticeable change in the older woman's face and Andy meekly looked away and concentrated on the Latin words. Not that she needed to read the music, she knew "Kyrie of the Magdalene" by heart.

It was one of the songs she had copied to Miranda's iPod and which they had listened to on their winter walk through Central Park. The conductor had been enamoured by its beauty but Andy hadn't thought that the older woman would be so quick in acquiring the sheet music. Then again, Miranda could do anything she set her mind to and the young journalist knew that the older woman would probably never cease to amaze her.

They sang the first few phrases as Andy's racing heart, from her run, the fall and the pleasant tingles of seeing Miranda again, returned to normal. While the conductor guided them through the next part of the song, the brunette relaxed into the flow of the inspiring music, allowing the adrenaline in her veins to subside. This caused the dull thumping in her hand to become more prominent and she grimaced and distractedly flexed her fingers which caused Emily to look up in aggravation at the wobbly change in her voice.

Miranda stopped conducting, propped her hands on her hips and let out an exasperated "Stop!"

"That was gruesome! Try not sounding like an army of wooden harlequins and put some _feeling_ into it." She waved one hand in front of her chest and closed her eyes as if to call on whatever traces of patience she had left. Andy noticed the fine lines under Miranda's eyes and realised that the older woman must have not gotten sufficient sleep either.

"Approach each line with tenderness," the older woman tried to explain as she slowly paced in front of them. "It's like a constant, rolling wave. A dance. Picture it. For those of you who don't understand the Latin, a translation is at the bottom of the page." She turned on the spot and waved at the pianist.

"Nigel, take my place. Start again from the beginning until I return."

The conductor then stalked toward the small steps at the side of the stage and looked over her shoulder.

"Andrea?"

Emily offered a gleeful snort at what she most likely thought would be a reprimand for tardiness and Andy wasn't entirely sure of herself as she followed Miranda off the stage and down the aisle toward the door. They slipped silently into the hallway and Miranda kept walking, the clacking of her heels resounding off the walls like the dreary threat of impending doom. Andy couldn't just see the older woman's tension in her shoulders, but also feel the air of anxiety streaming off her in waves.

Miranda was not happy about something and the journalist felt her heart sink. Was she angry at Andy for being late? Or was something else wrong?

They rounded a corner and moved through another door into a small office. However, as soon as Andy had closed the door behind them, she found herself wrapped into a tight embrace. She smiled into soft silver locks and slung her arms around Miranda, inhaling her scent and revelling in the feeling of the older woman relaxing against her.

"I missed you," the conductor mumbled into Andy's neck and the brunette sweetly kissed Miranda's temple.

"I missed you, too."

The conductor pulled away and reached around her back to grasp both of Andy's hands which elicited a hiss of pain from the younger woman. Concerned Miranda stepped back and brought Andy's palms up for inspection.

"Andrea, you're bleeding!"

There was a rather long, open scratch down the middle of her left palm and Andy frowned at it.

"I fell earlier. I must have hit a sharp rock or a piece of glass or something... ouch."

She tried to pull her hand away from Miranda's gentle prods but the conductor firmly held onto the wrist and stroked her thumbs up and down either side of the small wound. When Andy looked back up at the older woman, there was nothing but honest love sparkling from Miranda's eyes as she slowly brought the hand to her lips.

The gasp that escaped the journalist was a result of both the slight sting and the utterly brain-frying sensation of warm, wet lips gently pressing against her palm in an open-mouthed kiss. Andy had to close her eyes as Miranda began to suckle at the damaged skin and when the editor added her tongue in slow, caressing curls, graphic memories of their New Year's Night together caused an electric ripple to shoot through Andy's arm and down her spine. She felt herself clench and could not hold back a moan.

"Oh... Miranda!"

Warm lips retreated into a grin and with a final, gentle peck Miranda lowered their joined hands and placed her other palm against Andy's cheek.

"There, I think the wound is clean now," the conductor whispered softly and Andy opened her eyelids to gaze into a face that shone with complete adoration.

"Thank you." The brunette leaned forward and kissed the older woman sweetly before rubbing their noses together and then pulling away with a sigh.

"We should get back. They might call the cops if we stay away too long."

Miranda lifted an eyebrow in question.

Andy chuckled. "Well, there are rumors going around that you eat people alive."

At that the conductor's fingers languidly travelled down the journalist's torso and cupped her butt cheek with a small growl.

"Not _people_. Just one person."

Andy nearly choked.

* * *

Miranda had a hard time shaking off the smugness as they returned to the auditorium. Andrea was walking beside her, sporting a particularly adorable shade of pink and the conductor was sure the general consensus would be that she must have told the brunette off in a rather unpleasant manner. Despite grinning inwardly at the very _pleasant_, previous five minutes, she steeled her features and raised her chin as she stepped back in front of the expectant choir.

"Why are you not singing?" She asked with frosty inflection and nodded at Nigel to sit back down by the piano. Andrea quietly resumed her position next to Emily and the redhead's lips spread into a satisfied smirk. Miranda wondered why the British woman was so hateful toward the journalist. As far as she could ascertain, the disdain wasn't mutual.

She watched with a tepid glow in the pit of her stomach when Andrea raised her hands to hold and study the band-aid on her palm where just moments ago the conductor's lips and tongue had been, and a renewed blush crept on the brunette's delicate cheeks. It was with surprise that Miranda registered the shocked, and suspiciously concerned expression on Emily's face as the redhead stared at Andrea's palm and then threw a quick, accusative glance at the conductor.

_Interesting,_ Miranda thought. _Very interesting..._

"Now. Let's try this again. If we want to stand a chance in the preliminary rounds," she took the time to send a sincere glance at each individual singer, "we need to _nail_ this song." The conductor emphasised the uncharacteristic phrase.

She raised her hands and the choir began anew. It took a whole hour until Miranda felt remotely like they were making progress. Then again, it was a rather difficult song, living off each tiny nuance, which the singers had to harmonise perfectly. Under normal circumstances the sluggish process would have greatly annoyed her, and given the fact that she hadn't slept at all without Andrea by her side the previous night, her unrested state certainly gave her enough fuel to acerbically rain down on the choirs' confidence.

However the earlier moment in the office with the brunette had somehow mellowed her out a bit and she had to pull herself together to even keep up the generally expected level of iciness. All she wanted to do was take Andrea home.

"Alright. That's all for today! I expect you to know the lyrics by heart on Friday!" She added in conclusion as a soft murmur of something that sounded too much like relief travelled across the choir.

The singers soon dispersed throughout the auditorium, some leaving immediately and others flocking together in smaller groups to exchange New Year's wishes and chat a bit before going home. Miranda walked over to Nigel and leaned elegantly against the grand piano while the bald man gathered the sheet music together.

"So, I take it the new year has turned out satisfactory so far?" He raised his eyebrows and allowed a tiny smirk. Miranda moved her gaze from where it rested on Andrea, who was talking to her friends, and regarded the pianist through narrowed eyes.

Nigel stood and placed the papers in his briefcase. "It's not a bad thing, Miranda. You look..." he thoughtfully studied her for a few moments. "You look vibrant."

"Oh please," the conductor rolled her eyes to the ceiling and brought them back down the other side where they landed on Andrea again. "I'm exhausted." She felt Nigel rest a hand on her shoulder.

"Time for a coffee?"

Andrea's friends were clearly trying to convince her to go out as well, because the brunette sent a searching look into Miranda's direction. The older woman tried to suppress the flips her stomach made at the adorable expression on the brunette's face and she turned to Nigel with a single nod.

"Yes. Let me just send a quick text message."

* * *

Andy accepted Lily's and Nate's hugs with a genuine smile and then allowed Doug to sweetly kiss her cheek.

"Thanks guys! Happy New Year to you as well."

"So we totally need to catch up! It feels like ages since the four of us have been out for a drink!" Lily said in a way that indicated there really weren't many valid excuses that would get Andy out of it.

And as much as she wanted to just be alone with Miranda, she also knew she had certain obligations toward her friends. And it had indeed been a while since they had all hung out together. She looked over at the conductor who was speaking with Nigel.

"Come on, Andy." Nate encouraged.

When Miranda's eyes met hers, there seemed to be a silent understanding and the brunette could have sworn she saw a tiny tug at the conductor's lips before the older woman turned to nod at Nigel and then gracefully left the stage and grabbed her coat and bag.

"Andy?" Lily asked and turned around to follow the journalist's gaze, causing Nate and Doug to turn and look as well.

"She didn't mess you up, did she?" Nate said as he faced her again and pointed at the large band-aid on the brunette's palm.

"Oh, no! Of course not! No! I fell on my way over here. She just helped me patch it up," she said shyly, knowing that her burning cheeks were giving her away.

Nate and Lily exchanged glances and seemed very unconvinced.

"Did she go off on you? For being late?" Lily prodded and Andy tried to clear her throat at her friend's choice of words which unfortunately ended up as a full-blown coughing fit.

Doug gently patted her back and despite her teariness she saw the knowing twinkle in his eyes which earned him a scowl through her coughs.

"You okay, Sweetie?" He asked innocently.

Before Andy had calmed down enough to answer, her cell phone bleeped and she pulled it out of her bag to check the new message.

_Go and have fun with your friends, but I would love you in my bed tonight. - M._

It took a lot of mental strength to not immediately look up and search whether Miranda was still inside the auditorium. Instead, the brunette managed to direct the wide smile that appeared on her lips at her friends and nodded through the shininess in her eyes.

"Yeah I'm great!" She gave one final cough. "Let's go get those drinks."

"Alright, girl!" Lily said and linked her arm with Andy's.

On the way over to their regular bar, the journalist typed an answering text message for Miranda as inconspicuously as possible.

_Sounds wonderful! It seems I can't fall asleep without you. - A._

She pushed the 'send' button and looked up into a pair of quizzical, coal eyes.

"Girl, did you get yourself a man without telling me?" Lily asked, only mildly serious. Nate, who was walking in front of them with Doug, jerked around and gave her a strange stare.

"You have a boyfriend? When the hell did that happen?"

Quickly hiding her phone in her coat pocket the brunette waved them off.

"Guys! I swear I don't have a boyfriend!" She said calmly. She was, after all, speaking the truth. "I was only texting a friend." Okay, not so much with the truth anymore.

Her curly-haired cook friend seemed satisfied with the answer and turned around again, continuing the short walk to the bar.

Lily however, pulled Andy closer and whispered, "since when do _friends_ conjure such a saccharine look on your face?" She pinned the brunette down with a narrowed glare. "Andy, you just looked as if you've eaten too many slices of space cake."

Andy thought that was absolutely ridiculous, but when she heard another tell-tale beep from her coat pocket and her heart skipped an ecstatic beat, she couldn't hide the silly grin any longer. Lily lifted an eyebrow skyward and cocked her head to the side as she pulled her brunette friend to a stop by her coat sleeve.

"Seriously, Andy. I thought I was your friend. Why won't you tell me?" Her eyes took on a saddened shimmer and the journalist felt guilty at leaving her friend out of the loop. She had been so preoccupied by her overwhelming and intense feelings for Miranda that she had somehow neglected the friendship with one of her oldest friends.

"Lily, it's a bit complicated..." She began, feeling the chill of the evening claw at her exposed neck and she brought a hand up to hold the collar of her coat closer to herself. "I..." She couldn't really find the words. It wasn't just that she was in a relationship with a woman who was old enough to be her mother. Lily and Nate also seemed to genuinely dislike Miranda, regardless of holding enough respect for her to accept her as their choir leader.

Her friend waited patiently until she saw Andy shiver. "And by the way, where's your scarf, girl? You were so attached to that thing and now you stand here, freezing... wait a second." The brunette knew she was blushing again and hoped that Lily would put it down to the cold wind, but alas, recognition flooded her friend's features and Lily quickly clamped a hand over her agape mouth.

"No!" She mumbled through her palm. "No way!"

Andy shot a worried look at the two men who were still walking away from them at a steady pace and then gazed back at her friend.

"Lily..."

"You gave it to _her_..." The brunette closed her eyes at Lily's reference to Miranda and reached into her coat pocket to loosely cradle her phone.

"Andy, look at me."

She complied and was greeted by her friend's slightly less shocked face.

"That night, when we were waiting for the bus, you two had that strange moment. Nate and I didn't quite understand it but we figured, our Andy is a kind person. She does things like that..."

"Lily..." Andy really didn't want to have this confrontation out on the cold street after a long day and restless night, and she anxiously looked around if anyone was near enough to overhear them. She was taken by surprise when Lily stepped closer and hugged her fiercely.

"You thought you couldn't tell me, because Nate and I always make fun of the 'Snow Queen'?" Andy flinched at the name and Lily quickly corrected herself. "I mean, _Miranda_. Sorry." She then pulled away and gave the brunette a long look. "Girl, I couldn't care less who you date, as long as you're happy."

"Oh thank god," Andy exhaled and hugged her friend back. "I was so worried..."

They pulled away when Nate called out for them to hurry up, and the brunette re-linked her arm with her friend and they continued walking.

"I thought you hated her..." Andy said a bit hesitantly, hoping she was mistaken.

"Nah. She's actually pretty great. Fierce and all that. I'm just not used to people talking to me like I'm a three-year-old." She chuckled but then grew a bit contemplative. "As for Nate, I think he was just jealous."

"Jealous?" Andy felt a bit uneasy. So Doug had been right.

"From the moment Miranda appeared you were completely focused on nothing but her. I mean, at least I realise that now, in hindsight. You seemed distracted all the time." Lily lowered her voice as they approached the other two. "I think, maybe Nate just wanted to divert your attention away from her... and back to us."

The brunette squeezed her friend's arm. "I'm sorry Lily. I guess I've really been a bit preoccupied."

"It's okay, girl. I understand now..." She squeezed back and they arrived at the bar entrance where Doug and Nate were waiting.

"Everything alright?" Doug asked and Andy draped her free arm around him and pulled him closer with a relieved smile.

"Yes. Everything's great."

They took their usual booth and Nate left to order their drinks at the bar. Lily sat opposite Andy and quietly eyed Doug by the brunette's side.

"It's okay. Dougie knows."

"Oh," Lily glanced from the tenor to Andy and then leaned closer across the table.

"So... is this the first time you... well you know... are into women? I mean, I remember you dated that blond guy in college..."

The journalist felt a bit embarrassed but knew she owed Lily, so she took a deep breath and whispered, "Do you remember Ms. Cooper from English Lit class? I had a _huge_ crush on her for two years."

"No way! Get out!" Lily gaped and then playfully swatted at her friend. "Are you serious? And all this time you never told me?"

"Hush!" Andy giggled and nervously looked around. "I didn't really understand it for what it was back then. I would have told you otherwise."

At that moment Nate came back with their cocktails and slid into the seat next to Lily.

"Told her what?" He asked with a goofy grin and Andy buried her face in her palms.

To her horror, Lily actually answered. "Our little Andy here," she reached out to gently pat the brunette's head, "is in love."

Andy's head jerked up in shock at her friend's bluntness and the grin left Nate's lips as he glanced at her with a solemn expression. "I thought you didn't have a boyfriend."

She couldn't look him in the eye but mumbled, "well, that's because I don't." She fidgeted with her drink and held on to the burning sensation as some of the condensation on the chilled glass seeped under the band-aid and into the scratch on her palm. "But I _am_ seeing someone... and you kind of know her."

"_Her?_" Nate's bushy eyebrows drew together in an unhappy frown and Andy felt Douglas drape an arm around her shoulder in support.

"Yes. _Her_." She swallowed and then took a deep breath, looking him in the eye. "Nate... It's Miranda."

His lips remained firmly closed but his eyes widened in shock. He stared at Andy for a while and the brunette had the feeling that he was looking _through_ her, as if staring into space. Then, after a few, tense seconds, he grabbed his drink and hastily gulped down half of his Long Island Ice Tea.

After slowly wiping his mouth and intently studying the shiny table surface, he said, "Well... that _does_explain a lot." He looked back up at Andy and allowed a small smile.

The brunette let out a long breath she didn't know she had been holding. "So, you're not freaked out?" She asked with a cautious frown.

He scratched through his scruffy curls and leaned back into the seat. "Well, I am kind of freaked out... but it's... okay." He smiled again, this time a bit fuller, and Andy reached across the table to take his hand.

"Thank you, Nate." She let the relief shine through a smile of her own. "I mean it. Thanks."

She hadn't realised how anxious she had been about her friends finding out about her and Miranda, but now that it was out in the open, she fully allowed herself to relax and she felt the tension slowly leave her shoulders.

Leaning back with a sigh she allowed her thoughts to travel back to the conductor and then remembered her text message. She quickly retrieved the phone from the coat on her lap and checked the screen.

_Who said anything about 'sleep'? I remember a certain conversation we had the other night... - M._

The intense burn to her cheeks didn't go unnoticed and now that all three of her friends knew, they decided it was a perfect moment to tease her about it.

* * *

Miranda sat across from Nigel at a small booth inside the Starbucks near the community centre. A stack of papers lay spread out on the table before them and the conductor was busy writing comments next to the lines of tenor notes as her cell phone vibrated on the smooth wooden table.

With a smirk she felt comfortable enough to allow her friend to witness, she picked up the device and read.

_I can't wait until you're in my arms again. -A. PS: I somehow told my friends and they're okay with us._

Miranda frowned at the message. She was aware that Douglas knew about them, but the conductor was slightly concerned about the choirs' overall reaction and subsequent behavior toward her if word got out that she was sleeping with one of the singers.

She sniffed. Andrea was of course not just 'one of the singers' whom she happened to sleep with. She was so much more.

She was _everything_.

"Miranda?" Nigel's voice lured her from the warm thoughts of the brunette, and the conductor raised an elegant eyebrow at her friend. He pointed the end of the pencil he was holding at her phone.

"Everything alright?"

Not entirely sure whether or not she should dignify his probing with an answer, Miranda simply leaned back in her seat, brought up the phone and began composing a reply to Andrea.

_Don't stay out too long. I want your bare skin against mine and feel you writhe beneath me._

After pressing 'send' with a sense of elation as she pictured the brunette's face when she would read it, Miranda put down the phone and returned her attention to the sheet music in front of her.

"You know you can pretend all you want, Miranda. But this is big."

She pinned him down with a grade two glacial glare and hoped he'd leave it at that. However, Nigel wasn't her longest, and sadly, _only_ friend for nothing. She knew that when it came to issues concerning her heart, the pianist cared enough to not relent when he correctly sensed her need to talk.

"Fine," she allowed with a growl and took another singeing sip from her grande, skinny, double-shot latte.

Nigel cocked his head encouragingly and folded his hands on the table.

"She's a wonderful creature, Miranda. I've known her for three years and she's always been kind, honest and sincere."

"I know she won't hurt me, Nigel." The conductor trailed her fingers along the rim of her large paper cup. "I actually have no concerns about Andrea and I."

His ascending eyebrows were stopped by her narrowed gaze and he masked his surprise by scratching his bald head.

"So it's the 'Choir Off', then?" He studied her and the conductor knew he saw that he was right.

"Miranda darling, you'll do great! I mean look at you, we still have two months until the preliminary rounds and you're already writing your own arrangements for the finals."

The stack of papers in front of her served as proof that she hadn't lost her touch. However that wasn't the source of her worries at all. When her mother had revealed the news only a week ago, the severity hadn't even really sunk in, until it had slowly grown in the back of her mind and she could now taste the first tendrils of panic.

"She's the Sunshine Singers' new choral director, Nigel." Miranda blurted out before she could rope the words back in and tie them down in the far-away corners of her brain.

Her friend's face was blank for a few seconds until he pulled back his chin as far as it would go and widened his eyes dramatically.

"No!"

The conductor lowered her gaze back to the smooth wood of the table beneath her clammy palms.

"Are you serious?"

This time her grade two glare lacked vibrancy, due to the sour taste in the back of her throat and the unpleasant pounding in her chest.

"Nigel, why on earth would I be joking about something like that?"

He nodded his head in acknowledgement. "True. Hmmm. So how did you find out?"

"My mother informed me at Christmas. She had been keeping an eye out ever since I returned to conducting and she... she thought I should know." She closed her lids and rubbed the bridge of her nose with a sigh.

"It's okay. I can do this, Nigel." Her shoulders straightened and she opened her eyes again. "It might just become a tad unpleasant."

Her friend regarded her with that warm gaze that always made her feel pitied, and too human, but at the same time appreciated and loved. She basked in it for a while longer before shaking her head and picking up her pencil.

"Now, where were we?" She pulled at the sheet before them and pointed at the music. "This passage here. If we divide the tenors and split this section by a fifth..." She looked back up at the pianist. "What?"

"Oh nothing," he said with a smirk.

"Nigel, we have a lot of work to do. Now simply isn't the time for any more distractions."

As soon as she heard the first beep from her phone it was already in her hand.

_My Love, Tonight I will taste every last inch of your delicious body. - A._

The conductor stared at the words and her mouth felt dry as she gulped. _Dear god!_ The idea of Andrea's lips wandering all over her skin was hard to ignore and Miranda forced her eyes closed to regain some of her composure.

"No more distractions... I see." Nigel mocked her, and this time her glare was a splendid grade one, slicing at her friend so sharply that he instinctively pulled back his head.

The sheet music completely forgotten, the conductor then proceeded to quickly type a reply.

* * *

Andy shifted uncomfortably in the leather booth. She had only meant to be a bit playful with Miranda, but now their exchanged messages were taking their toll and she could sense an embarrassing stickiness between her thighs. She barely registered when Doug stood to get more drinks as her phone beeped with another new message.

_Where are you?_

She bit her bottom lip and replied.

_Mike's Bar & Diner. One block east from the centre. Why? - A._

"You alright there, girl?" Lily smirked and inched up a brow as the brunette blushed.

Of course it was obvious what she was doing, her friends knew her too well. She slid the phone back inside her coat pocket and neatly folded her hands in her lap.

"Sorry."

"It's okay, Andy. I'm happy for you. Just make sure to keep the T.M.I. to a minimum, alright?"

Lily laughed as Andy tried to kick her friend under the table but missed and instead rammed her already bruised knee against the table leg.

"Ah shit," the brunette groaned and sent Lily an accusative glare.

Nate who had grown increasingly quiet over the past half hour suddenly spoke.

"What is it like anyway, fucking a woman who's old enough to be your mother?"

"Nate!" Lily hit his shoulder with an audible smack and Andy's heart did an unpleasant leap at the outburst.

"Shut up!" The other woman punched the curly-haired cook again, for good measure.

He just rubbed his shoulders and leaned over the table and hissed, alcohol seeping from his breath.

"I mean, come on, Andy. This is really kind of twisted. I don't mind the whole lesbian thing, that's kind of hot. But that arrogant, old ice-bitch?"

The brunette stared at him wide-eyed, feeling as if she had landed herself in some kind of bizarre horror movie where her friend had changed into a psychopath zombie.

"Nate, you're drunk. Sit the fuck down or I'll seriously beat the shit out of your skinny, white ass!" Lily pulled at him but he used the table as leverage and stood.

"You know, I'm sorry Andy. I know I said it was okay, but it's not. You disgust me." And with that he slid from the booth and marched away through the crowded bar.

Hot tears burned in Andy's eyes from the shock of seeing her friend losing control like that and Lily reached over to take her hand.

"Girl, he didn't mean that. He's had too much alcohol, too fast. Just give him some time to cool off."

Nodding gingerly Andy wiped at the thick drops that ran down her cheeks. She was tired, over-emotional and just wanted to be with Miranda. How dare Nate call her all those things? He had no idea what the older woman had been through. How dare he?

Her hands rolled into fists and she looked up at her blurry friend. "I don't care, Lily. If he can't accept Miranda and me, then that's his loss!" She said through gritted teeth.

"Woah! What happened?" Doug arrived with their new round of drinks and immediately slid next to the brunette for a comforting hug.

"Nate's being a dick." Lily sighed. "He freaked out on her."

"Damn, I knew he might be tough but I didn't think he'd lose his temper." Doug mumbled as he soothingly stroked his friend's back. "Sweetie, are you alright?"

Taking a shaky breath the journalist raised her head from his shoulder and nodded. "Yes, I'll live. I better go freshen up. I must look like the Mascara Monster from Hell." She gave a timid smile and her friends chuckled. Andy climbed from her seat and pushed through the crowd and into the lady's room, where she propped her hands on the sink and stared at herself in the mirror.

She was just done wiping the dark mascara stains from her cheeks when the door opened and she instinctively closed her puffy and red eyes. Andy listened as high-heeled steps approached and came to a stop behind her, and a sudden waft of a very familiar perfume made the little hairs on the back of her neck stand up in anticipation.

"Andrea," Miranda whispered as she wrapped her arms around the brunette from behind and pulled her close. Andy immediately relaxed and reached back to pull her tighter with a happy hum.

Turning around in the conductor's arms, she opened her eyes and whispered, "Miranda, what you are you doing here?"

"Well," the silver-haired woman landed a brief peck on Andy's lips and then snared her into an intense, blue gaze. "I was planning on ravishing you," she whispered seductively and the brunette's heart seemed to plummet down to the junction between her legs. "But then your friends informed me that the scruffy boy upset you." She tenderly stroked the younger woman's cheeks.

Andy snuggled against Miranda's neck and buried her face between her smooth skin and the soft collar of her fur coat and deeply inhaled the older woman's scent. Maybe she was just too exhausted from the long day and Nate's outburst, but she felt entirely too weak to battle the raging hormones that had been dancing themselves into a frenzy all evening.

"Miranda," she breathed before leaning in and capturing the welcoming lips in a slow, sensual kiss. The conductor pressed her against the sink counter and they both moaned as heir tongues met in a sweet duel. Miranda firmly held Andy by the waist and slowly pushed one thigh between the brunette's legs, never relenting the onslaught of the strong muscle inside the younger woman's mouth.

"Ngh... Miranda..." The journalist panted as she pulled away. "What if someone... comes in?"

The older woman smirked and stepped toward the door, pulling Andy with her. She grabbed the brunette by the shoulders and carefully, but firmly shoved her backward until Andy was pressed against the cool wood. When Miranda moved forward to recapture her lips, the brunette knew that the tiny, prudish voice in the back of her mind, which kept wailing at the prospect of sex in a public place, didn't stand a chance. She clawed at the older woman's hips and pulled their bodies back together.

The text messages, Miranda's earlier sensual attention to her palm and Nate's ignorant and misplaced words all drove her to blindly wrap one leg around the conductor's middle and roll her centre against the softness of fur-coat-covered hips. Miranda was anything but 'icy' or a 'bitch'. She was warm and sweet, kind and loving. And so, so hot.

She moaned and sucked on the older woman's tongue as Miranda began to rock her pelvis against her in a slow rhythm. The pressure was teasing, and so sweet, but the many layers of clothing between them left Andy craving for more and she dug her heel into the tender swells of Miranda's behind to pull her even closer. She felt Miranda smile into the kiss and then winced in frustration as the conductor pulled away.

"Ngh!"

"My, you're so articulate, Darling." Miranda whispered and slowly shrugged her right arm out of the coat and snaked it back around Andy. She reconnected their lips and the brunette groaned into the hot mouth, as nimble fingers wandered to the front of her pants and began fumbling with the button.

The muffled bass from the bar's music melted with her thundering pulse, their swallowed moans and the sliding fabric of their garments. Andy arched her lower back away from the door and into the older woman as Miranda swiftly pulled down the zipper and slid her hand into the warmth between the brunette's thighs.

Andy knew she was obscenely wet, and the thin barrier of her panties was no match for the flash flood of her arousal. Miranda moaned approvingly and gently pressed against the damp softness. A deviant finger slowly stroked along the edge of silk between her thigh and abdomen until it hooked under the fabric and adeptly pushed away the ruined garment.

When Miranda's fingers made contact with the soaking flesh they abandoned the kiss in a loud, mutual gasp and their eyes, darkened by the heat of desire, met in a lock of complete and utter trust. The conductor tenderly circled the younger woman's entrance, playfully grazing over the bundle of nerves, and Andy bit her lower lip to keep from crying out.

At that moment they suddenly felt a push against the door from the outside - someone clearly wanted to get inside - and before the situation could fully register and freeze Andy, Miranda entered her with two fingers and shoved her forcefully against the wood. This time the brunette did cry out and ground her hips into the intimate contact. Whoever had been at the door had changed their mind, but Andy didn't even care anymore.

The only thing that still existed was Miranda, who now leaned forward and began suckling on the side of younger woman's throat, and those fingers, which began a painfully slow rhythm of pumping in and out of her slick centre. Clamping one hand to the conductor's neck and the other to the hips, so deliciously pressing Miranda's palm against her hard, little nub with each thrust, Andy felt reality slip away from her and slowly dissipate into a cloud of raw, unabridged bliss.

The delicate sensation of Miranda's silky hair against her cheek and the warm, wet lips against her pulse point kept her bound to the older woman and secured by their love Andy allowed herself to completely let go. Her hips picked up their pace, pulling the conductor along from their _allegro_ dance to a firm_prestissimo_.

The _crescendo_ of their mingling moans echoed through the tiled space and Andy felt a fire storm erupt from her belly and rapidly engulf her entire being as she began to shake in the older woman's firm grasp. Miranda gave one last, deep push of her hand and hips and whispered sweet guidance as the brunette combusted in a symphony of rigid muscles and overloading nerve-endings. Andy's head fell back in a cry too intense to be vocalised and she saw fuzzy little rainbow-coloured lights dance behind her closed lids.

"Shh, I've got you, my Love." Miranda mumbled against her neck and the young journalist felt her body slowly return to the present.

"Oh my god..." she groaned as the adrenaline washed away with the last aftershocks and allowed embarrassment to creep up her spine. She slowly uncoiled her leg from Miranda's hips and buried her face in the crook of the conductor's neck. "Oh go, oh god, oh god..."

The older woman gently withdrew her fingers and wrapped Andy in a tender embrace.

"I... I can't believe we just did that..." the brunette whispered against Miranda's chest, the rapid thumping of both their hearts still hanging heavy in the air. She pulled away and gazed into the conductor's sparkling eyes. "You're amazing, Miranda." She leaned closer to kiss her love and then gave a happy sigh. "I love you."

Languid fingers combed through her hair and she felt Miranda practically purr into her throat. "And I love you, Darling."

"We need to get home. Now." Andy began eagerly zipping up her pants and readjusted her blouse and sweater.

"Hmmm, you're insatiable, Andrea." The conductor smirked as she walked to one of the sinks to wash her hand.

"Yes. And I want to undress you, push you on a bed and spread you all out to feast upon," the brunette breathed into silver locks and Miranda fluttered her eyes closed with a moan.

"Alright my apartment. Now." She practically dragged the younger woman from the bathroom and through the busy bar to the booth where Doug sat across from Nigel.

"Hey, where's Lily?" Andy asked as she reached for her coat and bag.

"You tell me. She said she'd go check on you guys, but she never returned." Her friend said confused.

The journalist nearly chocked again and looked at Miranda with wide eyes.

"Uhm, well, I hope she shows up. We gotta go now, sorry! Bye!"

She tightly entwined her fingers with Miranda's and pulled her through the crowd and out of the bar.

* * *

To be continued...


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** I'm a little tired so if you spot a lot of blatant mistakes, I'm very sorry. I might still edit them out later... sneaky as I am... ^_^;

* * *

**Chapter 10**

Miranda stood in her empty guest bedroom and intently studied the paint swatches in her hand. She had a natural eye for any area of design, and under normal circumstances she could have decorated this space in her sleep. However when it came to her daughter's ever-changing tastes she was at a complete loss. Caroline would turn sixteen in just one week and Miranda had been under the illusion that giving the teenager her own room, and solidifying their plan of moving the girl back to New York, would prove to be an easy, and infallible gift.

She blankly stared at the different shades of blue, lilac and pink in her hands and sighed in defeat. There was only one person who could be of any help and the conductor wandered into her living room to reach for the phone. Before she could dial Andrea's number, though, the device rang and after a shocked moment of glaring at it, the name on the caller ID sank in and she quickly picked up.

"Andrea," she breathed, a youthful grin ghosting across her lips.

"Hey, beautiful lady," the journalist said on the other end. They hadn't seen each other since Thursday morning, and although Miranda had somehow managed to fall asleep by herself the previous night, she still felt her body immediately ache for the owner of that sweet voice.

"Your timing is impeccable, Andrea. I need your help with something." She sat down on the sofa and leaned back into the soft cushions, reminded of the sensual moments they had previously shared in this very spot.

"Sure, what's up?" The younger woman asked, sounding a bit distracted.

The conductor trailed her fingers over the armrest. "What colour would a teenager's room need to be these days? You know, to pass as 'acceptable'."

"Huh?" Andrea seemed confused at the question, and Miranda heard a lot of background noise, as if the brunette were at a market, or a train station. "Oh! You mean for Caroline?"

"Yes, of course, Andrea. Why else would I pose such a question?" The older woman rolled her eyes but her heart was buzzing with enough warmth at speaking to her young love, that she could not be annoyed with the sluggish response.

"Well, I know she likes blue, just like her room at your parents'."

"Hmmm."

"Maybe just stick with that? I realise you want to offer her a new beginning, but maybe a few familiar things won't do any harm?" Andrea had a point, the conductor knew that. And Caroline's favourite colour had indeed always been blue. Cassidy had loved pink, and Caroline had always preferred shades of navy or cerulean.

"Excuse me, sir, you dropped this." The younger woman spoke away from the phone and Miranda heard a muffled 'thank you' coming from a deep male voice in the background.

"Andrea, where are you? It sounds like a circus!" She was a tad displeased that the younger woman's attention was not one hundred percent on her and on the topic of their conversation.

"Sorry, I'm at the airport. That's why I phoned you." Now Miranda could hear the faint echos of the intercom, announcing the delay of a flight from Los Angeles. Her throat constricted and her body tensed with slight panic.

"Andrea, where are you going?" That had come out a bit strangled.

"Relax, Miranda! I'm not going anywhere. I'm here to pick up my parents."

The conductor allowed her muscles to loosen as she slowly exhaled.

"It's really last-minute, but my Mom phoned me this morning, before their take-off in London. They changed their connecting flight for Cincinnati to Sunday. Apparently they wanted to spend time with me because we didn't see each other during the holidays."

"I suppose that makes sense." Miranda absentmindedly rubbed the back of her neck.

"So, since we have choir tonight..."

The conductor interrupted her. "Andrea, I can't allow you to skip rehearsal and then still give you the solo parts just because we're in a relationship."

"Miranda, I wasn't going to skip! Geez!" The brunette sounded irritated and it wasn't a sound Miranda liked very much. "I just wanted to see if it was okay for my parents to come watch. They've never actually seen me with the choir so they'd love to come by. I just wanted to ask... you know... to give you a heads-up."

The older woman silently scolded herself for drawing the wrong conclusion too quickly.

"Andrea, I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I'm aware that you worry about your authoritative position. I told you yesterday that I would never consciously do anything to undermine that. I respect you too much."

"I know, Darling. I'm just being unreasonable..." She closed her eyes and massaged her temples. "And insecure. I'm sorry."

"Miranda, I love you, and I wouldn't skip rehearsal for anything in the world. Not because of the potential solos, but because I'd get to see you, doing something you love. Something we both love." Andrea sighed into the phone. "It's something I cherish."

The brunette's words flooded through the phone and made themselves comfortable in the vast expanse of Miranda's heart. She loved Andrea so much that she was worried she'd completely lose herself in the young woman, but at the same time she welcomed the sensation of being able to truly rely on someone. To be appreciated for who she was and what she held dear, and not be used in an attempt to get ahead.

"Darling, I love you. I'm sorry for being unpleasant."

"I love you, too." Andrea's warm tone was back and the conductor smiled into the phone and for a few seconds they just revelled in the comfortable silence with only the busy flutter of airport noises in the background.

"Indigo."

"I beg your pardon?"

"The colour for Caroline's room. Make it indigo. That will go well with her band posters and it's dark enough to be 'cool' for when her new Dalton friends come over," the brunette explained.

"Hmmm. Yes, that sounds good, actually." Miranda searched for the colour in her stack of swatches.

"Don't sound so surprised! You did ask me for help, after all," the journalist chuckled and Miranda enjoyed the happy sound.

"Oh, their plane just landed."

The conductor heard the soft creaking of Andrea's leather jacket, which caused an image of what the brunette must be wearing to dance in her mind. She usually wore turtlenecks with that jacket, in Miranda's mind, a fashion crime, but somehow even the strangest combinations looked good on the brunette. Or maybe Andrea simply looked good in anything.

"Oh by the way, tonight, when I bring Mom and Dad, uhm... I don't know yet _how_, or _when_ I'm going to tell them about us. I want to test the waters first. I don't think I can handle another 'Nate' incident..."

Miranda curled her free hand into a fist. "If that neanderthal shows his face tonight I will make sure he leaves as a soprano."

Andrea's soft giggle smoothed over the older woman's tension and she unclenched her fingers.

"As spectacular as that may sound, Miranda, I don't think my parents would take kindly to the woman in my life being a 'glamazon' who can castrate with a single glare."

"That's a shame."

The brunette snorted, but then grew serious again. "So, you'd be alright if I just introduced you as our choral director and conductor tonight? As I said, maybe it'll be comfortable and I can just tell them right away, but I don't want to hurt your feelings if I have to lie."

"Darling, just do what feels right."

"Thank you. I will. I think in any case, I'd want you to meet us for brunch on Sunday. Will you be back from the Hamptons by then?"

"Yes, I can arrange that."

"Great. Oh, there they are! I gotta go, Miranda. I will see you tonight."

"Yes, see you tonight, Darling," the older woman spoke softly and then hung up the phone.

_Hmmm, meeting the parents,_ she thought and rose from the sofa to walk back into the guest room.

* * *

Anticipation had her pulse running a marathon as Andy led her parents up the steps of the community centre. The afternoon had been filled with oddly pleasant travel reports on beautiful Europe, and although the young journalist had enjoyed hearing funny anecdotes of her father accidentally ordering goose liver when he had wanted steak or how they had taken the wrong 'tube' line in London, she had noted the complete absence of her mother's usual prodding into the status of her love life.

It should have helped Andy relax, after all it had been the first time in years that her mother didn't bug her about potential boyfriends or how much she dreamed of having grandchildren. However Andy had felt as if an invisible anxiety had been present in her mother's features the entire time, much as if she hadn't really wished to talk about the "Champs-Élysées", but about something else entirely. That perceived threat of confrontation had propelled the journalist to leave the apartment a bit earlier and they were now waiting by the elevator a whole thirty minutes before rehearsal would begin.

Just as the cabin arrived Andy heard swift footsteps approaching and swirled around to see her friend Doug hurry to slip into the elevator with them.

"Dougie!" Andy wrapped him into a crushing hug and whispered, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He just smirked as they pulled away and then extended a hand to Andy's mother.

"Mrs. Sachs, it's a pleasure to see you again!"

"Douglas, I thought we agreed on you calling me 'Anne'," Andy's mother chuckled pleasantly as she shook his hand.

"It's nice to see you, too"

"Richard," Doug said with a smirk as he turned to Andy's father who greeted the young man with a friendly smile of his own.

The cabin arrived at their floor and they lazily walked down the hallway and into the empty auditorium.

"So you're brave enough to come watch us rehearse?" Doug joked as they moved down the slope to the front row of seats.

Andy's father patted his daughter's shoulder and smirked. "We've heard great things about your Christmas concert, so we're confident the rehearsal will prove to be pain-free at the very least."

"Mom, Dad, you can sit in these chairs over here," the journalist instructed while nervously keeping an eye on the doors. She had phoned Doug in a panicked need for moral support for when she would introduce Miranda, but now that the moment of truth had nearly arrived, she seriously considered running away. Something was up with her mother and her dad tried too hard to pretend that nothing at all was going on.

Her parents engaged Doug in a friendly conversation about their travels and Andy began tuning out their voices, straining her ears in alert for the slightest clicking of heels from the hallway.

Maybe she needed to wait until after rehearsal, or even until Sunday.

She fidgeted and longed for Miranda to finally get there. Despite being partially responsible for Andy's apprehensive state, the older woman's presence would make her feel a lot more at ease.

And then she heard the distinctive stride, and she held her breath when the door swung open and the conductor glided into the auditorium with long, confident steps. The open, moss-green velvet coat flowed back and framed her swaying hips perfectly. The knee-length, plain, black dress was one of the brunette's favourites and an orange Hermès scarf did a sufficient job at covering that hickey the journalist knew she had left the previous morning. Andy fell in love all over again and for a tiny moment she forgot that her parents were right behind her.

Miranda's gaze had found Andy's mother the moment she had set foot through the door and as she came closer Andy could nearly taste the intense scrutiny crackling in the air. The older woman was clearly assessing the threat level and Andy glanced at Miranda pleadingly, attempting to silently convey the uncomfortable situation.

"Uhm, hi Miranda," she said shyly once the conductor was in front of them. "These are my parents, Anne and Richard Sachs." She gestured in their direction as they stood to greet Miranda. "Mom, Dad, this is our conductor and choral director, Miranda Priestly."

To the brunette's relief, the older woman must have read her mind because she greeted her parents in a polite but reserved manner, just as expected for meeting one of her singers' family. Showing a slight interest but nothing that would give away that she was sleeping with their daughter.

"How do you do?" Miranda said courtly and Andy could have sworn she saw her mother twitch.

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Priestly," Andy's father said politely as he shook her hand, while Andy nearly cringed at the designation.

"Please," the conductor drawled, "call me 'Miranda'.

Andy shivered. Now was definitely not the time to bring up, 'oh by the way, she's also my girlfriend'.

An uncomfortable silence crept around them, and the brunette felt that there was something very eerie about the way her mother looked at Miranda. If she didn't know better, her mother was sizing up the conductor. It reminded Andy of two predators, slowly circling each other in the prelude of a fight to the death.

To her relief Doug interrupted. "Miranda, if you have a moment, there was something I wanted to ask you about a passage in the kyrie."

"Of course," the conductor gave him a polite smile that didn't reach her eyes, shrugged out of her coat and then followed Doug onto the stage.

"So, that is your choral director," Andy's dad mumbled as all three of them watched Miranda walk to the grand piano and elegantly perch over the instrument to study the sheets of music Doug was pointing at.

"Uhm, yep," was all the brunette could say.

* * *

Throughout the entire rehearsal Miranda could feel a pair of dark eyes burn into the back of her head. She was certain that Andrea's mother was ready to jump at her throat any minute now. Andrea had not given any indication that she had revealed their relationship, however, Miranda was was certain that Anne Sachs _knew_. The venomous look the conductor had received earlier hadn't been the only indication. When they had shaken hands there had been a definite hostile vibe seeping from Anne's entire body.

Andrea appeared to be a nervous wreck. She stood stiff as column, glancing between her mother and Miranda and there was barely any sound coming from the brunette at all. The conductor knew that had it been anyone else she would have coldly told them off in front of the entire choir, making a spectacle of their less than admirable effort. However, despite her earlier declaration of wishing to treat Andrea exactly like everyone else in the choir, all she could do was to put as much reassurance into her gaze as possible without actually retorting to smiling.

To her relief the rest of the choir was doing considerably better that they had on Wednesday. It seemed the singers had done their homework and although the scruffy bass boy and Andrea's alto friend were absent, the overall sound the men and women produced was pleasant.

"Not bad," she allowed as soon as the last few notes of the songs had ended. "Memorise your passage and my relevant hand gestures because on Sunday we will attempt to practice in mixed voice positions." She let her gaze travel over the choir, registering the confusion at her sudden amiability and the mention of new techniques and then dismissed the singers with a simple "that's all."

As the men and women scattered off the stage into the rest of their Friday evening, Andrea remained frozen to her spot. Her fingers were frantically playing with the hem of her sweater and Miranda wanted nothing more than to walk over and take the younger woman into her arms. Somehow she knew, though, that it would be a bad idea. She could practically taste the tension in the air.

With a slight grimace the brunette walked past the conductor and off the stage to join her parents and Douglas, who were already waiting with her coat and bag. She watched as they walked up the aisle and her heart did a small leap as Andrea quickly turned and, unseen by her parents, blew her a kiss, before unhappily scampering through the door.

"Well, that was uncomfortable." The pianist said with a grin as he gathered the remaining sheet music from the large instrument.

"Oh shut up Nigel," Miranda scoffed as she leaned against the piano, rubbing her temples.

She certainly didn't picture her first meeting with Andrea's parents to go like this. Hell would likely feel like a spa treatment compared to Sunday brunch.

"Well, I gotta go. Don't let yourself get intimidated by that woman."

"Excuse me?" The conductor shot her friend a searing look. She never got intimidated by anyone.

Nigel just smiled, patted her shoulder and then climbed off the stage and with a final wave left the auditorium.

Miranda looked around the large, empty space and sighed. _What a day..._ She studied the grand piano and then slowly walked around it, trailing her fingertips over the shiny, lacquered surface. With her customary elegance she lowered herself onto the padded bench and shuffled into the middle, gently brushing against the ebony and ivory keys before her.

As if by their own accord her fingers began to play. Tentatively at first and slowly reacquainting herself with the piece she hadn't played in so long. She needed a moment of peace, a few minutes to let go off the strained rehearsal. Usually being in Andrea's arms would do the trick, but the brunette was on her way to a probably rather unpleasant evening with her parents.

Closing her eyes Miranda allowed herself to float along with the cascading notes, the long ago perfected movements of her hands coming back to her without effort. The lively sound carrying her higher, away from the auditorium and into plains of simplicity and beauty. She swayed to the sudden tempest of the melody, throwing herself into the crescendo as it wandered up and then back again, until the melody calmed down and gently rounded to a humble, sluggish rhythm, before coming to a quiet halt.

"Chopin."

The voice startled her and she quickly blinked her eyes open to stare into the positively glowing face of Andrea, perched on her elbows on the edge of the stage. Miranda stood and slowly walked toward the younger woman, taking the time to languidly move in a gait she knew would guarantee the brunette's undivided attention.

"Andrea, what are you doing here? I thought you and your parents," she stopped at the front of the stage, looking down at the younger woman who must have had a perfect view up her dress, "would be out discussing a few _things_ by now."

The journalist visibly swallowed and then reached out to caress the older woman's pantyhose-clad ankles.

"I told them I had forgotten something. I couldn't just leave you like that." She gestured for Miranda to lower herself and offered a hand. "Come here."

The conductor carefully knelt and then sat down at the edge, allowing her legs to dangle in front of Andrea who gently spread them as far as the skirt allowed and stepped in between. Miranda draped her arms around the younger woman's neck and Andrea hugged her tightly around the middle, pulling them closer into the embrace.

In this position the conductor was slightly taller and she leaned her forehead on the brunette's shoulder with a deep sigh. It had been less than two days and she had longed to be like this with her love so shockingly much that it nearly scared her. Miranda wasn't sure she could live without Andrea. The thought was absurd and so unlike the strong and proud persona she usually pretended to be.

But it was the truth. And Nigel had been right. She _did_ feel intimidated by Andrea's mother. That woman probably wielded more power over the young journalist than anyone else in her life. What if Anne Sachs disapproved? What if she decided that her daughter could do so much better than a middle-aged conductor with a haunting past and a disabled teenage daughter?

Miranda wanted nothing more than to share her worries with the brunette, but voicing one's fears made them real. She wondered if the younger woman was even aware of the situation.

"She knows, Andrea."

The brunette tensed.

"Miranda, I swear I didn't tell her anything. I have no idea what happened, but she's already been acting strange all day." She tightened her grip around the conductor and placed tender kisses on her cheek before slowly moving away.

"I should get back. I really need to talk to her. To both of them."

Miranda turned her head and connected their lips in a quick, but thorough kiss. Before the resulting sweet burn in her abdomen could overwhelm her she removed her mouth and rested her forehead against Andrea's.

"Go, Darling."

"I will call you."

The brunette leaned in for a final kiss and then reluctantly stepped backward, her hand gently holding on to the conductor's until they were too far apart and their fingers separated, falling slack and defeated to their sides.

"Bye," Andrea whispered with such an adorable expression that it caused Miranda's heart to ache and made her wish she could just reach out and pull the younger woman back. She watched Andrea slip through the door for a second time that evening and after collecting herself she glided off the stage and retrieved her coat and bag from a front row chair.

She was about to walk toward the exit when she caught a movement from the corner of her eye. Abruptly swinging around she could only just make out a blur of red hair disappearing through the side door to the left of the stage.

* * *

"Okay, I can't take this anymore!" Andy growled and placed her arms flat on the table in frustration. "Mom, whatever your problem is, out with it." Mrs. Sachs just blinked at her daughter and the journalist added a rather sarcastic, "Please."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Sweetie," her mother answered, feigning disinterest and looking distractedly around 'Mike's Bar & Diner'. "This is a nice place."

Andy took a deep breath and straightened herself. "Mom, please. You're making me feel really bad. Just talk to me."

The look Mrs. Sachs directed at her husband made him nod to Doug and the two men wordlessly slid from the booth and trotted toward the bar, leaving the brunette alone with her mother.

They regarded each other for a while and Andy became nervous. She chewed on her bottom lip and began to wobble her feet, shaking the entire table.

"Please stop that, Andrea."

She tried not to cringe at the strange way her name sounded coming from her mother, who pronounced it in that pedestrian, typically North-American way. She gingerly stilled her movement and regarded the woman across from her.

Her mother could be considered rather common. She had nondescript, dark blond hair, narrow, but friendly features and her eyes were a shade slightly greener than Andy's chocolate brown. There really wasn't anything threatening about her at all. Why then was it, that Andy felt so utterly intimidated, so terrified of her mother's opinion when it came to Miranda.

Andy knew that she would never leave the conductor, whether her mother approved or not. Nonetheless she had this nagging need for her mother's approval. She remembered their phone conversation before Christmas, when her mother had said she would be okay with Andy dating girls, so how bad could her reaction possibly be?

And then the brunette remembered that Miranda wasn't just a 'girl'. She was a grown woman, only ten years younger than Mrs. Sachs, with a daughter of her own and she was richer than anyone in Andy's family has ever been. It was clear to the journalist, that her mother must have somehow picked up on the connection between Miranda and her and had drawn her own conclusions.

"Mom," Andy began again.

"You promised you'd tell us when you met someone," came her mother's quiet, accusing tone.

"Oh." The journalist felt herself blush. They were really going to talk about this. Here and now.

"Uhm, well. We've only been together since Christmas, and it isn't exactly phone conversation material," she mumbled, gazing up at her mother with that pleading look that used to get her a second after-dinner cookie when she was little.

"So it appears," Mrs. Sachs said a little sharply.

Andy felt a battle brewing in the pit of her stomach. She might have had trouble standing up to her mother when it came to her own life, but as soon as Anne Sachs as much as indirectly insulted a hair Miranda's head, Andy knew she'd assume defensive positions immediately.

"Mom, I love her," she said and her mother's face transformed with shock. "I truly love her. She means the world to me."

The other woman regarded her silently, studying her daughter as if seeing her truly for the first time.

"She may appear a bit strict, or icy at first, but she is an incredibly warm human being."

Her mother remained visibly sceptical and Andy wondered whether Miranda would ever truly let her mother see that side of her. The way they had nearly killed each other with mere looks wasn't exactly a sign of potential friendship.

"She protects herself by keeping a distance because she's been through a lot."

"Oh please. I've seen her clothes, Andrea. What problems could she have possibly encountered that couldn't be solved with mon..."

Before she could finish, Andy had already risen from her seat and was leaning across the table, hovering above her mother with barely contained fury.

"Don't... ever... talk about her like that again... " she hissed through gritted teeth and waved a finger in the air, "... or I swear I will..."

Then suddenly she realised that she was threatening her own mother and the lost look on the other woman's face truly startled her. Still shaking with emotions, eyes shining with tears, she sat back down and rested her gaze on the table surface in shame.

"Five years ago, one of her twin daughters died in a car crash..." Andy mumbled as hot tears fell from her cheeks. "The other girl, Caroline, has been practically paralysed from her waist down, and is only now making her very first steps again since the accident." She sniffled and wiped at her face.

"Sweetie..." her mother tried, but Andy silenced her with a hurt look that said she wasn't done yet.

"The girls' father died as well. They had already been divorced, he was an alcoholic and the authorities said his drunk-driving caused the accident and Miranda was the one who had asked him to drive the twins home that night."

She hiccuped and saw the deeply pained emotions raging across her mother's features.

"You know what that means, right?"

Her mother nodded solemnly, tears now shimmering in her own eyes. "She blames herself..."

"Yes," Andy confirmed a bit more subdued. "So, don't ever talk about her like that again, Mom."

Mrs. Sachs reached across the table and grasped both of her daughter's hands. "I'm so sorry, Sweetie. I had no idea."

The journalist felt her mother's sincerity and she tightly curled her fingers around the other woman's hand.

"She is... sort of a presence... and when I saw her walk in, floating like a _goddess_..." Andy's lips twitched at her mother's choice of words. "... well, I immediately felt threatened. When I told you that we'd be okay with you dating a girl, I really meant that. I guess I thought if you dated a girl your age, I'd somehow end up with a second daughter."

There was a deeply rooted sorrow in her eyes and Andy wondered why she had never seen that side of her mother before. The woman had always been a strong, cheerful person who had made sure her daughter had everything she needed, most of all a loving, happy home. But now there was a melancholy drifting across her mother's face that nagged at her.

"So this woman, barely younger than myself completely captures you... and I'm worried that instead of gaining a second daughter, I might actually lose _you._"

"Mom..." Andy slid from her seat and moved around the table to sit beside her mother.

"Mom, look at me. I promise you'll never lose me! And although Miranda's parents are wonderful people, I'm sure she'd love to be your second daughter."

Mrs. Sachs frowned. "You've met her parents?"

"Uhm yes," Andy shifted uncomfortably. "At Christmas..."

Andy's mother tilted her head and raised both her eyebrows. "What? I thought you'd only gotten together then?"

"Well, yes. Miranda felt like she needed her family's approval at a chance of happiness with me," the brunette explained.

Her mother appeared lost in thought for a while. "Hmmm."

"So how did you figure it out anyway? You _knew_ the whole time, didn't you?" Andy probed.

"Well, your father and I have had our suspicions about your sexuality ever since you were in college. You couldn't speak about anybody but that professor of yours."

The brunette felt herself blush and tried to hide her face behind her palms as her mother simply smirked and continued.

"And when you then kept mentioning this new conductor of yours, during every single weekly phone call... well it was rather obvious. The last clue, of course was when I phoned the day before Paris. She was at the door and the way you panicked and mumbled to yourself, and the tone of your voice as you greeted her, it was enough confirmation for us to know that our little girl was in love."

She gave a warm smile and gently rubbed her daughter's shoulders.

"Of course then we had no idea who Miranda was and the two times we phoned you from Europe you seemed so distracted... distant. So naturally I began to worry. And then today when you picked us up from the airport... you were... you had changed."

Andy raised her head in question. "Mom, I haven't changed..."

"Oh yes you have. You're glowing. You're radiant with love and life, Sweetie. You've finally grown up. And I think I might have felt slightly jealous that another woman could impact you in such a profound way."

The journalist became thoughtful. Had she really changed? Had she all of a sudden 'grown up'? To her it didn't feel that way, but then again, she _did_ have trouble picturing herself without Miranda in her life. She couldn't really remember the Andy before the conductor had entered the picture.

"Maybe you're right, Mom." She hugged the other woman with one arm. "I think I've finally found a purpose. A place where I truly belong. Miranda challenges me intellectually as well as emotionally. She listens to everything I have to say and she opens my eyes to new perspectives. I even think my writing has improved since I've started spending time with her. I don't think any of that is bad."

"I didn't mean to imply that it was, Sweetie."

Her mother leaned over to brush some remaining, smudged mascara from Andy's cheeks and then straightened her back.

"Now, I think it's best to ask the boys to come back. They've been anxiously watching us from the bar this entire time and your father did warn me to be 'nice' on the flight over." She yawned and tried to hide it under a hand. "And we need to eat something and then go to sleep. It's been a long day. It's three in the morning in London now."

"Ugh, of course! Sorry, Mom!" Andy quickly waved at Doug and her dad to come over and then held on to her mother's hands one more.

"Thanks, Mom... For talking to me and being honest. I really wouldn't have known what to do if you had made me chose between you and Miranda. I think that would have killed me. I'm sorry that I lashed out at you."

"That's alright, Sweetie," Mrs. Sachs said softly as she padded her daughter's hand. "I understand now how important she is to you." She paused. "We _will_ get to meet her properly, I hope?"

"Yes, of course. On Sunday. For brunch."

"Good." And with that she let go of Andy's hand and smiled at her husband whose relief was practically shining off his face.

Andy grinned at Doug who wiped at his forehead in a typically over-dramatic motion and then settled back into the booth with a wide grin of his own.

* * *

Miranda padded into her parent's kitchen early on Saturday morning and sluggishly searched for a coffee mug.

"Can I be of assistance?" Came the slightly accented male voice from behind her.

"Oh. Good morning, Xavier." She turned around to face the old cook. "I'm in need of coffee. Espresso, actually. Double shot."

"I do remember the way you prefer your coffee, Mademoiselle Miranda. Please take a seat."

The conductor still felt flattered by the designation. Xavier always insisted on calling her that, although she had outgrown her 'mademoiselle' days many years ago. It made her feel youthful and fresh, and maybe a tad ridiculous as well. She had tried to convince him to simply call her by her first name, but of course he wouldn't have that.

"Thank you."

She watched as the man deftly worked the coffee maker and just a few moments later she found herself cradling a large cup of searingly hot liquid.

"Would you also like some breakfast?"

Miranda considered this for a moment, because she had acquired the habit of skipping the first meal of the day, but before she could reply, a loud rumble from her stomach answered for her and she gave the cook a sheepish grin.

"Very well. Bacon, eggs, toast? Pancakes?" He raised an eyebrow at her and Miranda remembered how she had refined that very movement by studying him when she was little. She looked back at him blankly, knowing the correct answer but being too proud to admit that she was in desperate need of 'comfort food'.

"Pancakes it is then," Xavier said and turned toward the pantry. He knew her too well.

Many of her sleepless teenage nights had been spent with Xavier behind the stove and Miranda dangling her legs from the bar stool, chewing on waffles, french toast or his signature blueberry-banana pancakes. As she looked back the conductor was surprised that she had been such a skinny teen, despite the midnight carb-fests.

The cook worked in silence and allowed the silver-haired woman to order her thoughts. She had barely slept the previous night. Having left right after rehearsal it had still taken her half an hour longer to make her way through the traffic and she had arrived at South Hampton exhausted and anxious.

During the ride Andrea's text message of _'Everything is alright. Crisis averted. Brunch should be fine. Love you, -A.'_ had considerably calmed her down, but she was still left with a bitter aftertaste of her first meeting with Mrs. Sachs. It had truly startled her and shaken her steady belief that Andrea would not leave her. The possibility of the younger woman choosing her own family over Miranda had crept up and wouldn't let her rest.

And then there was Emily, who had witnessed their sweet little moment in the auditorium. Miranda wasn't entirely sure how high on the catastrophic scale that would turn out to be, but it didn't make her feel safe. At all. They should have been a lot more careful.

_Who am I kidding?_ She sniffed. She knew that the need to feel Andrea then had been far too overwhelming and it would have been next to impossible to not reach out and wrap herself around the brunette.

Shaking her head she traced the blue flower pattern on her mug. Things could become difficult. There wasn't a rule that stated she wasn't allowed to date members of the choir, and technically she wasn't even under the official employ of the community centre, because they didn't pay her. Nonetheless it might still interfere with the already strained relationship with Irv and his desire to shut down the choir entirely and rent out the auditorium instead. If he didn't see her fit to lead the group of singers he could just force her to leave.

Of course it didn't help that two members of the choir had already disappeared, hopefully only temporarily, due to her relationship with the brunette. And as annoying as the redhead could be, she did have a strong voice that would be missed in the choir, and she also did a good job as an assistant, always making sure everyone received their copies of the sheet music on time. The conductor hoped that nobody else would abandon the choir because of Andrea and her.

She was jolted out of her musings by a large plate of delicious-smelling pancakes being shoved in front of her. She deeply inhaled the familiar scent and smiled at Xavier.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure," he replied courtly and then turned back to the stove to prepare a second batch.

As she took the first, delicate bites of her breakfast Miranda counted back and realised that she hadn't enjoyed a plate of the cook's pancakes in over seven years. The heavenly flavours did wonders to her mood and she felt herself perk up as she continued to dig into the carbs.

"Mom! You're here already!" Caroline stood in the doorway, clutching the wall.

Miranda had to quickly swallow a bite and felt it heavily glide down her throat. "Well hello! I'm sorry that I didn't wake you last night, Darling. I got in really late." She took a large gulp of coffee and then smiled at her daughter.

The teenager beamed back and then slowly slid her socked feet over the floor while holding on to the wall at first, and then transferring over to the kitchen cabinets until she was behind Miranda and could reach over to pull herself across and toward the other bar stool.

"Good morning, Xavier," she greeted the man as she pulled herself onto the chair and sat down.

The conductor felt her heart ache with joy at the amazing progress Caroline had achieved in such a short time. She was a little worried that the girl was overdoing it, but both her parents had reassured her that the therapist was very enthusiastic and had good hopes for Caroline.

"I see you ditched the crutches," she gently cupped her daughter's face and planted a kiss on top of the girl's head.

"Yes! See, as long as I hold on to something, I'm good! Oh, thank you!" The teenager enthusiastically pulled at the plate Xavier brought over and began gobbling down pieces of pancake and fruit in earnest.

"And for outside," she said half chewing, "the Doc says from next week on I can go with one crutch only. I've already been practicing." Caroline glowed as she dug further into her food, and although Miranda was slightly annoyed at the smacking noises the girl made as she ate with an open mouth, she felt thoroughly happy and moved off her stool and stood behind her daughter, wrapping her into a tight hug.

"Mom! I can't eat like this," the girl giggled and Miranda just hugged her tighter and buried her face in her daughter's hair. She poured all her love for both twins into the embrace and hoped that whatever peaceful haven Cassidy was at right now, she would be able to feel it.

* * *

Andy rested the guitar bag against the bench and checked her watch. She had agreed to meet her parents back in this park in twenty minutes and she relaxed into the seat, enjoying the uncharacteristically warm January afternoon. The sun was low, but still radiated enough heat to allow the brunette to close her eyes and rest for a bit.

She had used some of her savings to buy a midnight blue Fender Stratocaster for Caroline's birthday, and although there had been an insistent little voice, sounding incredibly a lot like her mother's, telling her that spending so much money on the daughter of someone she had only been seeing for such a short time would be a bad idea, Andy felt confident that this would be the perfect gift for the teenager's 'sweet sixteen'.

The journalist basked in the sounds around her. A few defiant birds, taking on the New York winter, were proudly singing their last few tunes for the day as the sun set and a group of skaters rolled by on their boards. Andy smiled, and looked up into the sky as she felt a lightness settle over her that brought a serenity she could not recall ever sensing before.

Her cellphone rang, and caught in the peaceful moment she didn't check the caller ID and just answered with a lazy 'hey'.

"Girl, I'm not your woman. No need to put on that voice."

"Lily!" Andy sat up straight and had the urge to somehow grab into the phone to make sure her friend didn't hang up. "I've been trying to reach you for the past three days. Where have you been?"

"Well, I was... hiding," her friend said hesitantly, as if, upon hearing the words out loud, she recognized how ridiculous they sounded.

"I missed you at rehearsal yesterday," Andy said sincerely.

"Well, don't worry. I'll be there tomorrow. I feel a bit silly." She paused and Andy felt bad because she knew that if she had been in Lily's position she would have probably acted the same way and would have bolted as well.

"Lily, I'm sorry if we weirded you out. It's not like we had planned to... you know..." Her friend uncomfortably cleared her throat on the other end of the line and Andy realised she should probably not go into any more detail. "Uhm... you know... any of _that_."

"Well, girl, I am glad you're finally getting some..." Andy burst out in giggles at that. "I just don't think I want to witness it. Ever. Again."

"Right. Gotcha," the brunette flicked her index finger at the phone and then shook her head at herself and the gesture. "So, Lily. Are we cool?"

"Yes, girl. We're cool. See you tomorrow?"

"Yes! Bye Lils." Andy said with a smile.

"Bye, Andy. Oh, and make sure you two don't traumatise anyone else."

The journalist blushed and then snorted at the disconnected phone in her hand.

Life was looking up. Her mother had calmed down and promised to be nice to Miranda and her friend was back. Well, Nate was still gone but Andy's anger at his outburst was still livid, and she decided she didn't want to see him until he got an attitude makeover.

* * *

Miranda knew it was probably madness and she was challenging the fates, but she simply couldn't help herself. It was one in the morning and she had just driven all the way back from the Hamptons and now found herself on the steps to Andrea's apartment building. She was aware that the brunette's parents where sleeping in that very place, but she was aching to be with the younger woman, even just to hold her. There was no way she would survive another sleepless night.

She looked up at the darkened windows on the third floor and pulled out her cellphone, hoping that Andrea had it by her bed and not anywhere near her parents. She wrote a quick text.

_I'm outside your building. -M._

She pushed 'send' and waited impatiently. Nothing seemed to change upstairs and no lights turned on, and she wondered if she should give up or write another message. The night was rather chilly - a result of the clear sky all day - and Miranda was glad she had brought Andrea's striped scarf and she wrapped it around herself more tightly and carefully looked around at the less-than-stellar neighbourhood.

The brunette really shouldn't be living here. What if one day something happened? She shook off the thought and was about to send another, rather annoyed message as the dirty glass panels in the front door lit up and she heard the sound of keys in the lock.

Andrea opened the door looking very sleepy in her baggy, blue bathrobe, and her hair was messy and it stuck up in random places. However Miranda ached so much for her that she didn't care where they were and she lunged at the younger woman, nearly picking her from the floor as she hugged her tight and crushed their lips together.

Decidedly more awake now, Andrea pulled away with her signature sheepish grin, and closed the door behind them, while sneaking an arm around Miranda's waist.

"Well, you certainly are my favourite nightly spook," she whispered sweetly as she locked the door again and then turned to hug the older woman once more. "Come on, let's go. But we need to be really, really quiet, because Mom and Dad are sleeping in the living room." She gestured at Miranda's heels. "You might need to take those off."

Trying not to think of what exactly the stickiness under her silk stockings might be, Miranda picked up her Prada heels and followed the younger woman up the stairs.

"So, do you always lock the front door in this building?" she inquired in a hushed voice.

"Yes, we need to. Last year we had a lot of break-ins, so everyone in the building collectively decided to put up a curfew and we invested in better locks. Now you can't get inside without making so much noise that it will wake the entire street."

Miranda swallowed hard and decided that she would need to get Andrea out of here soon.

The younger woman led her toward her apartment and turned to make one final 'hush' gesture at the conductor. There was something oddly exciting about sneaking around in the middle of the night. The threat of Andrea's parents waking up and catching them was rather thrilling, and Miranda felt her pulse speed up in excitement.

They slipped through the door and into darkness and the older woman had to fully trust Andrea to guide her by their joined hands. She held her breath as they tiptoed around unseen objects and finally entered what appeared to be the bedroom, because the brunette closed a door and then turned on a small bedside lamp.

They gazed at each other in the weak light, both grinning at their little adventure, and then Andrea stepped forward and slowly unwrapped the scarf from Miranda, taking her time and making sure her fingers brushed a sufficient amount of the conductor's night-chilled skin.

"I missed you," she breathed as she leaned in for a kiss that was very tender and careful, but every bit as exciting as their little tiptoe adventure through the building. Miranda had to suppress a moan as Andrea slowly unbuttoned her coat and slid warm arms underneath the heavy, layered velvet. It wasn't rushed, but a quiet and gentle torture to have the younger woman touch her so sweetly.

It was probably a horrible idea to actually be doing this with Andrea's parents outside the room, separated by just a thin plywood wall, but Miranda's mind had trouble fighting her libido's logic. They would just be quiet. They would see it as a challenge, as part of their little adventure.

She shivered as the coat was eased off her shoulders and slowly draped to the floor, guided by Andrea's fingers. Soon lips found her throat and the brunette's hands tugged at her belt. Miranda nearly lost herself in the sensations of the younger woman's warm mouth on her, but soon need took over and it blindly guided her fingers to untie Andrea's bathrobe.

The supple expanse of skin revealed by the mere sliver of a camisole caused Miranda to hum in pleasure and the brunette uttered a 'Shht!' which was followed by the most adorable giggle the conductor had ever heard. She quickly dove forward to press her face against Andrea's slender neck and the brunette hurried her effort in undressing Miranda.

Finally, after a only a few more minutes of shushed giggles, hums of contentment and a pair of uncooperative thigh-highs, they finally snuggled into each other under Andrea's cotton sheets. They weren't silk or satin, but they smelled of Andrea and Miranda sighed happily as she pulled the brunette toward her in another languid kiss. She knew she wouldn't be able to spend many more nights without the younger woman. This was where she belonged, and she wanted Andrea to be in her arms, as often as fate would allow.

Their pace gradually slowed, their lips brushing against each other lazily and without real purpose and Miranda was disappointed to find that the raging inferno of previous arousal had succumbed to her overwhelming exhaustion. She felt guilty and was about to sleepily apologise when the younger woman's even breath sweetly caressed her face.

Miranda smiled and tenderly tucked Andrea's head under her chin, pulling the sheet securely around them, and with a final kiss to the brunette's temple, she allowed herself to drift off to a restful sleep.

To be continued...


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Okay, so the stuff in Andy's parents' past wasn't something I had originally planned, but someone very close to me has gone through the same thing, and we've just recently talked about it and I wanted to add it to the story because it serves as a serious bond between Miranda and Anne. I hope the rest of the chapter makes up for the sadness because I had a really hard time writing the scene where Andy finds out...

* * *

**Chapter 11**

_"Andrea"_

Luscious warmth lured Andy into consciousness. She was incredibly comfortable and felt a sleepy grin stretch over her lips as she deeply inhaled the sweet and unmistakable scent of Miranda. She slid her arms around the warm, naked body lying curled against hers under the sheets, and gave a little purr when she shuffled closer and nuzzled the soft skin below the older woman's shoulder.

"Andrea."

_Hmmm._ Something wasn't quite right. Miranda didn't caress her name the way she usually did when they woke up together. The conductor's body was rigid and Andy could hear the violent thump of her heartbeat. A stiff hand briefly squeezed her shoulder, and suddenly Andy understood.

Turning her head away from Miranda and into the general direction of the door, she slowly blinked open her eyes. Her chest hurting from the brutal hammering of her own heart, she allowed her sight to focus on the figure in front of her bed.

"Uhm... hi, Dad," she squeaked.

Richard Sachs stood stiffly in the dawn-lit room, barefoot in his striped pyjamas and holding a pile of clothes to his chest. It appeared as if he had stopped in mid-motion, one foot in front of the other, and his cheeks were colouring a particularly dark shade of ruby.

"I-I'm sorry, Andy. I was on my way to the..." he raised an arm to wave halfheartedly at the door on the other side of the bedroom, "uhm... shower."

The brunette propped herself up on her elbows and the motion caused the bedsheets to ride down and expose hers and Miranda's bare shoulders. Her father immediately averted his gaze and she quickly pulled the sheets back up and around her neck.

"Uhm, Dad, it's alright. Go ahead. We'll... uhm... we'll get dressed."

He nodded, but didn't dare send another glance in his daughter's direction, and then bolted the few remaining feet toward the bathroom. He quickly slipped inside and shut the door with a quiet 'click'.

"Oh my god!" Andy groaned into her palms as she lay her head back down on the pillow. "That did _not_ just happen!"

"How could you forget that your parents would need to walk through here to reach the bathroom?" Miranda hissed in a whisper, nervously eyeing the door that led to the rest of the apartment.

"Well, I was kind of distracted," the brunette mumbled as she quickly slipped from the bed and tiptoed to the dresser below the covered indoor window to pull out boy shorts and an old t-shirt. She turned to the conductor while struggling to slip on the short pants as gracefully as possible. The older woman watched her with a mixture of amusement and awe.

"What?" Andy asked with a slight frown, her upper body still bare, the t-shirt dangling from her fingers.

"I'm strangely torn between attraction and revulsion. Boy shorts! Really, Andrea," Miranda sniffed, but allowed a crooked smirk. "Although I can't say that I'm not enjoying the view."

The brunette put on a fake pout and turned her hips to show her behind. "But it's Snoopy! Look! And I only wear these for sleeping."

The conductor raised an eyebrow but kept her eyes rested on the soft bounce of Andy's naked chest.

"Well, okay, maybe not recently. But I can't go out there," the younger woman waved in the general direction of the living room, "wearing that camisole from last night."

Miranda hummed at the memory and Andy quickly pulled the t-shirt over her head. She then leaned down and picked up her bathrobe to hand it to the older woman.

"Here, put this on before my mom decides to wander in as well."

The conductor eyed the blue cloth with unrestrained disdain and didn't show any sign of reaching for it.

"Please, Miranda," Andy begged and lay the robe across the bed. "If Dad's awake and spooking around, that means mom is already up as well." She looked around the room until she found a scrunchy and began to tie her hair. "She's probably in the kitchen, making coffee."

At that Miranda grabbed the robe and within seconds she was out of the bed and had most of her nudity covered by the fuzzy, blue fabric. Andy grinned.

"When I was little we had a Jack Russel terrier named Petey, and he was very lazy." Miranda looked at her with narrowed eyes that said _'why on earth would you bore me with anecdotes at such a time?'_. Not letting the older woman bully her, Andy smiled back sweetly and continued.

"You know, he lay around the house all day, doing absolutely nothing. Until, that is, we said his _magic word_, _'outside'_. When he'd hear that, he'd jump up and go totally berserk, with his little tail wagging at a hundred miles an hour." She stepped closer to the skeptical conductor and wrapped her arms securely around the older woman's hips. "I think your magic word might be 'coffee'."

Miranda pursed her lips but the slight tug of an involuntary smirk turned it into more of a defiant pout. "Andrea, I am certainly NOT _wagging my tail_." She regarded the brunette for a while with steely eyes, but then her gaze softened and she reached up at an attempt to fix Andy's unruly morning hair. "And I think, _anything_ coming from your mouth...," she bit her lower lip and looked deep into the brunette's eyes, "... is magic."

Lost in their little moment they were about to kiss, when the sound of the shower turning on reminded them that they had company. Andy sweetly stroked Miranda's cheek with her thumb and then slid her hand into the conductor's palm to pull her toward the door.

"Come on. Let's go and get you your coffee."

Her mother was indeed rummaging around the kitchen, dressed in a long-sleeved, white nightgown, while the coffee maker gurgled happily away on the counter.

"Morning, Mom", Andy said, pulling Miranda closer toward the small, round table.

"Morning, Sweetie," Mrs. Sachs answered while prodding at a loose hinge on one of the olive cabinet doors, her back to Andy. "You should really let Richard fix this. It could come off, and before you know it, the whole door will fall on your head."

"She has a point," the conductor spoke softly, but loud enough for Anne to hear. Andy watched her mother spin around in surprise and accidentally knock one of the cups, that sat waiting on the counter top, into the sink.

"Oh."

"My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you." Miranda's tone was calm and polite, and Andy knew that the conductor was testing the grounds.

"No... that... that's alright," Mrs. Sachs said while self-consciously running a hand through her hair and tugging at her nightgown. "I just wasn't aware that Andrea had... a visitor."

Andy let go of the conductor's hand and walked over to her mom to give her a quick hug.

"Sorry about that, Mom. Miranda came back very late last night, and we didn't want to wake you." She picked the fallen cup from the sink and then turned to face both women.

"So, uhm... maybe we should do this again. Properly, this time." She felt a bit embarrassed and knew that her cheeks were most likely a bright pink. Fidgeting with the hem of her t-shirt she regarded her mother.

"Mom, please meet Miranda. Conductor, musical genius..." She glanced over at the silver-haired woman. "... and the love of my life."

The sparkle in Miranda's eyes sent a burst of warmth directly to her heart and she couldn't help the large, silly grin that erupted on her lips.

Mrs. Sachs took a deep breath and then stepped forward with a hesitant smile. She extended her hand to the other woman. "Nice to meet you, Miranda."

With a matching, careful smile of her own, the conductor grasped and shook the offered hand. "The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Sachs."

"Please, call me Anne."

"Very well, Anne."

They let go of each other's hand and then stood quietly in their slightly awkward, new-found civility. Andy watched them for a moment, attempting to wrap her head around the scene of her mom, dressed in a rather old-fashioned nightgown, and Miranda, wearing Andy's over-sized bathrobe, staring at each other without the earlier malice.

She grabbed one of the cups from the counter and cleared her throat.

"Uhm. The coffee is ready."

* * *

Miranda slowly lowered the cup and savoured the bitter brew before it soothingly made its way down her throat. It wasn't the usual, expensive Italian espresso, or a Starbucks double shot, but it was strong and scalding, and it kept her grounded while she sat across the table from Anne Sachs.

Andrea had taken her turn in the bathroom and Mr. Sachs, upon seeing the two older women seated at the small kitchen table, had opted to go out for the Sunday paper, leaving Miranda alone with Anne.

"So," Mrs. Sachs began after a few silent minutes. "My daughter told me about... your loss." She looked up at the conductor, eyes shining. "My deepest sympathies."

The defensive mechanisms inside Miranda immediately kicked into gear and she felt the blood drain from her face. Was this the reason Andrea's parents acted friendly toward her now? _Pitty?_ Did they feel sorry for her? Did they believe their daughter had taken on a charity case? She gripped the cup in her hands so tightly that the tips of her fingers began to hurt.

She was about to lash out when a sad smile appeared on the other woman's lips, and the apparent pain caused the conductor's anger to quickly subside.

"Andrea doesn't know this." Mrs. Sachs began, hands fidgeting and her gaze resting on her own coffee cup. "We had another daughter, Alexandra." The past tense stabbed at Miranda's heart and she felt her own eyes burn. "She was only four weeks when she passed away. The doctors said it was sudden infant death syndrome, or as they call it, 'crib death', and we never found out what exactly had happened..."

Some of Miranda's own pain resurfaced as she remembered the agony of losing Cassidy and her heart ached for Andrea's parents.

"I'm very sorry," she said quietly, not sure enough of herself to reach across the table and squeeze Mrs. Sachs' hand.

"Thank you. It was thirty years ago, and Richard and I are alright now. We had Andrea four years after, and she made a lot of the pain go away. Nevertheless, it still hurts... sometimes." Anne looked up from her coffee. "But it helps to tell someone who understands what if feels like to lose a child."

Miranda nodded solemnly.

A silence heavy with memories and a soothing sense of companionship settled over them, and they continued to quietly sip at their coffee until they heard Andrea return from the bedroom. Knowing both older women rather well, the brunette quickly picked up on the laden air and walked around the table to stand behind the Miranda.

"Is everything alright?" She asked while gently stroking the back of the conductor's neck.

Miranda closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. The knowledge that Andrea had no idea about her older sister constricted her chest, and she reached up to pull the younger woman's arm down and across her shoulder. A soft cheek, smelling of soap and moisturiser slid against her own, and Andrea fully wrapped herself around the conductor, hugging her tightly.

"We're fine, Darling," Miranda whispered into the journalist's neck.

Mrs. Sachs rose from her chair and smoothed her nightgown. "I think I will take a shower now, if that is okay."

"Of course. Please go ahead." Miranda smiled and watched as Anne collected clothes from one of the large suitcases by the sofa bed and then disappeared into the bathroom.

"Are you really alright, Miranda?" The brunette whispered softly while tenderly rubbing the conductor's stomach.

"Yes, Darling. Your mother and I bonded, believe it or not." She slid her arms down to still the sensuous movements of the younger woman's hands and cleared her throat. "Maybe we shouldn't be doing this here. Right now. Especially after the the way we woke up." She snorted elegantly. "Come sit and have some coffee."

Andrea sweetly pressed her lips against the older woman's cheek and then straightened and walked over to the counter to get a cup. Miranda couldn't help but appreciate the way the solid black jeans hugged the younger woman's curves. Although she preferred tailored designer clothes for herself, Miranda knew that Andrea could not afford anything that wasn't off the rack.

Nevertheless, the red and grey striped _ESPRIT_ cardigan fell playfully over the brunette's hips, tempting the conductor to walk over and slip her hands under the thin cotton. When Andrea turned around, steaming cup in hand, her eyes met Miranda's, and upon deciphering the look in the older woman's gaze, sent her a radiant grin.

"My parents' flight leaves at two-fifteen." Andrea informed her while slowly walking back toward the table, her eyes resting on the conductor's cleavage where it peeked out from underneath bathrobe. "If we drop them off early enough we will still have some time before choir rehearsal."

Raising her eyebrows in amusement, Miranda answered the younger woman's mischievous smile and used her bare foot to push out the chair to her left. Andrea got the hint and sat down, shuffling closer and whispering, "Hey there, Beautiful."

"Oh please Andrea, I haven't had a shower yet, my make-up has half disappeared and my hair must look a true catastrophe," Miranda rambled.

The journalist quietly set her cup on the table and then leaned in so close that her breath ghosted across the older woman's lips.

"Miranda, you're absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous," She whispered in a mixture of mint flavor toothpaste and coffee. "Your eyes sparkle in the mornings, as if still entranced by the stars of night. The lines on your face are soft and calm, and your hair..." Andrea fluttered her lids closed and hummed with a crooked smile on her lips. "Your hair," she opened her eyes again and looked into bottomless blues. "... is one of the sexiest things about you. Dishevelled like this, it looks like you've just been beautifully and thoroughly..." the brunette leaned even closer and rested her burning cheek against Miranda's, whispering the last word barely audibly, "... _fucked_."

The sweetness of Andrea's voice, coupled with the hushed vulgarity, burned through the conductor's chest and sunk slow and thick like warm caramel down toward her lower abdomen. She grabbed at the younger woman's hips and with a few pulls and tugs maneuvered Andrea onto her lap.

The brunette straddled her and wrapped her arms loosely around the conductor's middle, joining their foreheads and lovingly rubbing their noses together. Miranda allowed her hands to rest on the younger woman's buttocks and tilted her chin to briefly kiss those delicious lips before pulling away far enough to sincerely gaze into Andrea's chocolate eyes.

"Sometimes the simple fact that you exist threatens to break my heart."

She didn't really understand how the words had escaped her, but as she felt the faint ghosts of them echo in her head, she realised that they were truth. Andrea was a wonder to her. An angel who had been sent down from the heavens to find and complete her. How somebody so kind and tender could not only exist, but choose her, of all people to be with, was a mystery and Miranda was content to live on without ever attempting to solve it.

The warmth in the brunette's eyes reached out to her, engulfing her in radiant happiness and making her feel safe and loved.

"Miranda..."

Smooth hands gently held on to her face and guided their lips together in a kiss that tasted of unconditional trust, desire and an eternity of love. Their tongues mirrored the slow, sensual waves of bodies tightly slung together in a hungry embrace. Andrea's fingers wandered through the conductor's hair, sweetly massaging the scalp and pulling Miranda even closer.

Heart racing from the surge of heat to her centre at the possessive gesture, the older woman moaned into the kiss, causing the brunette to respond with a grinding tilt of her hips against the suddenly all-too-hot fabric of the bathrobe. Miranda's hands had found their way under Andrea's cardigan and the thin cotton shirt she wore underneath, and were now slipping down the smooth, warm back and toward the waistband of the journalist's panties.

Just as her index finger slipped down into the vale between the soft mounds of flesh, and Andrea responded with the sexiest of moans, they heard the sound of keys in the front door. Eyes big with shock the younger woman launched off Miranda, pulling down her askew top and half stumbling into the chair behind her, knocking over her coffee in the process.

"Shit shit shit!"

Miranda couldn't contain the laughter that bubbled up from deep inside her. It released all the tension that had built up during the past few days, and she had to hold her stomach as the images of a dumbstruck Mr. Sachs in the door, and a pouting Andrea, staring at her in disbelief, became blurry.

* * *

Andy leaned back in her chair and studied the interior of the French bistro Miranda had recommended for their brunch. It was a small, cozy place with long oak tables and padded chairs, a large collection of art nouveau paintings and many black and white photographs of Paris. Soft music and the smell of freshly baked baguette filled the air, and the general crowd was calm and sophisticated.

"This place is very nice, Miranda," Mrs. Sachs told the conductor. "It feels just like in Paris."

Miranda allowed a gentle smile and nodded. "Yes, I thought you might like it. The owner is a Frenchman who used to work at the conservatory. He's an old teacher and friend of mine."

Mr. and Mrs. Sachs looked impressed.

"Is there anything on the menu you would recommend?" Richard asked.

"The quiche _Lorraine_ may sound simple but it's one of their specialties. The _soup du jour_ is quite popular and," Miranda turned to Andy with a ghost of a smirk that only the brunette could see, "The hazelnut-chocolate paste and mango _crêpes_ are usually a great success with children."

Andy's eyes widened and she grabbed one of the menus to look at the options. "They have real _Nutella_! Okay, I'm done." She closed the menu and grinned at the conductor who dramatically rolled her eyes but still had an insistent tug at the corners of her mouth.

"Oh, there's the waiter already, and I haven't picked yet," Andy's mom indicated behind the other two women's shoulders and began to frantically browse through the menu.

A bad faux-French accent drifted up from behind them. "_Bonjour_ and welcome to _Jacques' Bistro_! I'll be your... _fuck_!"

All four guests jerked up their heads at the swear, and Andy found herself staring into the burning gaze of Nate.

"Well, isn't that a surprise?" Miranda spoke from the brunette's left and immediately placed a hand on Andy's thigh under the table. Whether it was meant to be reassuring or possessive, the younger woman couldn't say, but it felt good.

"N-nate. Since when do you work here?" Andy stammered, her rapid pulse hammering wildly in her ears.

"Since November. If you had paid attention to anyone beside _her_," he pointed a stubby finger at the conductor, "you would have maybe noticed a thing or two about your friends."

"_Friends?_" Miranda's voice was icy and dangerously low, and the sound of it, combined with the firm grip of her hand on Andy's thigh, sent pulses of red heat down the brunette's spine. "You still consider yourself Andrea's _friend_ after the way you treated her?"

"Keep out of this, _Old Lady_!" Nate hissed and crossed his arms, staring wildly down at Andy. "I can't believe you just show up here. With _her_!"

The blood in Andy's veins began to boil. Nobody insulted Miranda and got away with it!. She tensed, like a spring ready to explode, but suddenly her father interrupted her silent countdown of rage.

"Excuse me, young man," Mr. Sachs cleared his throat and stood. "You will not talk to my daughter, or her girlfriend like that. Apologise at once."

_My girlfriend..._ The words echoed through Andy in soothing ripples that smoothed over her anger like warm, melted chocolate. She hadn't used that particular designation for Miranda yet. It didn't really fit, because there was nothing 'girly' about Miranda, and it seemed inadequate for describing how much the conductor meant to the brunette. However, hearing it from her father's lips made it clear that he had accepted the older woman in his daughter's life, and the fact that he defended them both filled Andy with pride and love.

Realising he was in front of Andy's parents, Nate appeared speechless for a moment. Seeing the brunette and Miranda at a table with _Mom and Dad_ seemed to make the situation more real to him and he dropped his arms in defeat.

"Miranda, is everything alright over here?" The head waiter had appeared behind Nate and eyed the scene with suspicion.

"Bonjour Gustave," The conductor greeted him in flawless sounding French. She appeared to consider the situation, thoughtfully eyeing the brunette, who silently begged for Miranda to not use her connections to get Nate into trouble. Andy knew that if she had any hopes of working things out with Nate, sabotaging his gastronomic career would be a wrong move.

"Yes, everything is alright." Miranda nodded for Richard to sit back down and then, with a calculated look directed at Nate she added. "How's Jacques?"

"Father is doing good. Thank you for asking." Gustave smiled at the conductor.

"That's good to hear. Please send him my regards."

"I will." And with a final, polite nod Gustave walked away again.

Andy sat in a kind of trance, watching the exchange with detachment, as if it were a movie and she was comfortably seated on her living room couch, wondering about the random strangeness of this foreign film. The gentle squeeze of Miranda's fingers on her leg pulled her back to reality and she closed her eyes and allowed a deep sigh, before turning to Nate. The young man still stood speechless beside the table, probably realising that, by the conductor's mercy alone, did he remain employed.

"Nate, look..." Andy began, pulling his attention from an undefined spot on the far wall back to her. "Miranda and I are a couple. That won't change." She reached for his hand but he pulled away. "I miss you as my friend. I don't want things to be weird between us."

The emotions were visible on his face and he clearly struggled to make up his mind.

"Please, Nate." The brunette pleaded.

After another short moment he combed through his curls and then straightened his shoulders.

"Alright." He sent her a timid smile that clearly still burned him, and then faced Mr. and Mrs. Sachs. "I apologise for my behavior."

"Thank you." Andy smiled at him and then relaxed back into her chair, slowly loosening the tight grip she'd had on the conductor's hand under the table.

Nate remained civil for the remainder of their stay and the fact that Gustave kept hovering close-by reassured Andy that their food would not be spit on or otherwise suffer from any lingering anger. Miranda lightened the mood with casual conversation about Paris and Europe, and the brunette had a hard time imagining that the conductor had spent most of the past five years in seclusion. Her social skills were impeccable.

By the end of the meal her parents were thoroughly charmed and Andy swooned slightly at the dreamy way Miranda talked about France. The many excitements of the morning and her interrupted intimate moments with the conductor were taking their toll on her resolve and she knew she needed to be alone with the older woman soon.

* * *

Miranda sighed in frustration. It was quarter to three and they were on their way to the community centre. After dropping off Andrea's parents at the airport they had wanted to rush back to the older woman's apartment for a quick 'nap', but a road accident and subsequent traffic jam had thwarted their plans. The result was that both of them were on edge and fighting hard to keep their hands off each other in the confined space of the car.

"What did Mom say to you before we left?" The brunette asked while Miranda shifted gears, earning her a hard swallow from the younger woman. The conductor was well aware of the effect of her, driving the Porsche, had on Andrea, and she would have found it highly amusing, had she not been incredibly frustrated with the situation herself.

"Actually, she asked me to take good care of you." She said softly, letting her lips linger in the 'u' shape as she eyed the brunette through lowered lids.

"_Take care_ of me?" the younger woman asked with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

"Andrea please be serious!" Miranda scowled. "Any more suggestive teasing and I will have to pull over right here and have my unrestrained way with you on these five thousand dollar leather seats."

One look to her side and at the furiously blushing younger woman told her that she shouldn't have said that. Andrea whimpered and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. They remained silent as they approached the community centre's car park, and the stillness seemed to pull them closer together with invisible threads of their longing.

Miranda had to concentrate on parking, a job she could do in her sleep under normal circumstances, but the wild throb between her thighs and the fact that in less than ten minutes they were expected inside the auditorium put a lot of extra pressure on the normally cool conductor.

With a victorious grunt she finally pulled the handbrake, turned off the engine and unlocked herself from the seat in a graceful flurry, before practically flinging herself, in a very cat-like manner, across the younger woman. Hungry lips found hers and as they kissed Miranda slowly loosened the seat belt Andrea was still wearing. Releasing the delicious mouth for only a few seconds, she slipped underneath the flat strip of nylon, straddling the brunette with her knees and allowing the seat belt to re-tightened and press them even closer together.

The younger woman's surprised groan sent a jolt of fire to the conductor's abdomen and she latched back onto Andrea's lips with explosive need. A quick fumble with the seat controls had them recline slightly backward and Miranda rhythmically pushed herself against the ablaze body below hers, using the tightened seat belt around her lower back for added strength.

Andrea's hands slipped skillfully under her skirt and up her outer thighs as their tongues fought a laguid battle for dominance. Their chests pushed together, joining their two heartbeats into one single pulse that washed through them like the seductive bass of a jazz tune, and the rustle of clothing, their hushed moans and the heavy breathing through their noses reverberated off the low car roof like a swaying melody.

All the conductor could focus on were the hands so greedily cupping her butt and the wonderful sensation of Andrea's tongue claiming her mouth as thoroughly as the younger woman was, no doubt, about to claim other parts of her body as well. Miranda didn't care that they were in a car, in a parking lot where practically anyone could catch them. The burning need to feel Andrea enter her overwrote all logic and reason, and she roughly grabbed at the brunette's teasing fingers and attempted to push them down between her legs.

The sudden flash of head lights swimming briefly through the interior of the Porsche alerted them, and the resulting rush of adrenaline caused Miranda to quickly sit up. Unfortunately, the seat belt abruptly stopped her movement and cut painfully into her side.

"Fuck!" She hissed uncharacteristically and fumbled with the release button, when a blood-red Ashton Martin pulled up beside them. She managed to free herself and swiftly shuffled back into her seat where she sat for a few seconds, trying to catch her breath and smoothing down her skirt.

Andrea looked a complete, but incredibly sexy mess lying in the lowered seat. Her hair was mussed, her cheeks were flushed red like candy apples and her baby pink lip gloss and the ruby shade of Miranda's lipstick had mixed and were smeared together in a vivid testament to their frantic kisses. Rich, dark eyes, full of lust burned into the conductor's soul and she had to swallow hard to keep herself from reaching over and continuing where they had just left off.

The door of the red sports car slammed shut and covering her own, kiss-stained lips with one hand, Miranda politely returned the hand wave of the short man, and watched as he set the car alarm and then disappeared into the building. With a noisily exhaled sigh of relief the conductor lay her head back against the neck rest and turned toward Andrea.

"That was Irv, but I don't think he saw you." She reached forward to put the brunette's messy bangs in order and noticed that the younger woman was still having a hard time composing herself.

"I don't..." Andrea closed her eyes and pushed both hands against her chest in an attempt to calm her heart, "I don't think I can handle any more interruptions, Miranda." The desperate look in her eyes clawed at the older woman's chest and Miranda halfheartedly attempted to wipe at the smudged redness around Andrea's lips, before leaning forward and pressing a sweet kiss to the swollen mouth.

After their lips had parted again she remained close and cupped the younger woman's cheeks. "I know, Darling. Me either. We will just have to wait until tonight, okay?"

With a defeated nod Andrea straightened the car seat and then retrieved her purse to start fixing her make-up. Miranda proceeded to do the same and they managed to arrive at the auditorium without any remaining traces of their little adventure, and only five minutes late.

* * *

Concentrating on singing was a welcome distraction for Andy and she managed to block out her libido and fully let herself be submerged in the sea of voices. Miranda's idea of mixing the choir around really seemed to work, and although a few singers momentarily got confused, they soon settled in the enhanced beauty of the rich, full sound.

They spent another hour on the "Kyrie for the Magdalene", before the conductor instructed Emily to hand out the set-lists for the 'Choir Off'. The preliminary rounds were still eight weeks away, but Miranda had made it clear that they would need to work very hard to earn their chance to shine at the finals.

Andy accepted the sheet of paper from the silent redhead and noticed the uncharacteristic lack of malice in Emily's face. It was actually completely blank. From the very beginning of their acquaintance the Briton had not passed up a single opportunity of hurling spiteful remarks at the brunette, and it was disconcerting to now watch as the redhead wandered off without even acknowledging Andy's presence with a sneer.

"What's with her?" the journalist whispered to Lily, whose position in the choir was now right behind her.

"Beats me."

"Andrea," Miranda's cool voice forced the brunette's head back around. "Please cease your idle chatter and pay attention." The commanding tone made certain parts of Andy's body clench and she pressed her lips together in the hope that she didn't blush too furiously. The conductor's face gave nothing away but the intense look she briefly sent at the journalist rekindled those fires Andy had hoped were under control by now.

"Now, if you look at the pieces I have chosen for the preliminary rounds, you will see that there are only two more songs for us to go through." Miranda began her customary pacing in front of the singers as she continued. "However, do not mistake that for an invitation to become careless, and to underestimate the work required to master these songs. I expect all of you," she let her gaze travel over every single person, and when her eyes found Andy, she briefly licked her upper lip, "... to do your utter best. That's all."

Soon the men and women scrambled off the stage and Andy joined her friends by their coats and bags. Her and Miranda had agreed to meet back at the car, but walk there separately, and the conductor had already left the auditorium.

"Thanks for coming back, Lily. I really missed you."

"No problem. So you're sure you don't have time to hang out?" Her friend asked with a tilt to her head.

"Sorry, Lily. There's something I need to do." Andy said regretfully. She did truly miss hanging out with her friends, but some things simply had priority.

"You mean there's _someone_ you need to do." Doug grinned and then ducked skillfully away from the brunette's flying hand.

"Dougie!" She huffed and then pouted playfully. "No, actually, we're going somewhere else first. And it's important. So, I'm sorry, but I gotta go. Another time, okay?"

She kissed both their cheeks and then dashed up the carpeted slope and through the door.

Miranda was already waiting inside the Porsche and Andy slipped into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh.

"You're evil, Miranda. You nearly killed me up there!"

"You're the one to talk... With your angelic face and that blissful expression when you sing," the older woman smirked and the brunette couldn't help but smile back. The love she felt for the conductor was overwhelming, raw and pure. It sent a happy warmth through her chest and at the same time caused the pleasant tickle of goosebumps to ripple all over her arms and legs.

Unable to help herself she leaned over to gently kiss the older woman's cheek. Her hand found Miranda's and she tenderly entwined their fingers, looking up and drowning in azure eyes.

"Are you ready?" The conductor whispered while tucking a few stray hairs behind the brunette's ear.

"Yes. Let's go."

They pulled out of the car park and began the ride in silence, their somber destination subduing the lustful tension between them.

Andy felt honored that Miranda trusted her enough to take her to see Cassidy. She knew the pain inside the conductor - she had _seen_ it and they had talked about it a great deal - however it was still very different to actually accompany Miranda to visit her daughter's grave.

They left the car near the cemetery gates and Andy followed the conductor into the small flower shop behind the main entrance. While they stood in front of the counter and waited for the requested flower bouquet to be prepared, they remained at a respectable distance from each other. It was something they had agreed on, early in their relationship. They wouldn't publicly show affection until after the choral competition.

Miranda was holding her wallet in front of her chest and stood stiffly and expression-less, her eyes focused on nothing in particular. The moss green velvet coat hung lifelessly from her slightly slumped shoulders, and there was a devious lock of hair that had separated from the customary curly and hung cheekily above the older woman's right eye. Andy wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around Miranda, pull her close and force all the bad memories away from the conductor's heart. She wanted to tenderly brush the silver hair back in order and plant sweet kisses on those sad cheeks.

As if reading her mind, the older woman suddenly turned her head and studied Andy, before slowly extending her arm and offering her hand.

"Come here."

Those two simple words reassured the journalist that Miranda and her were one. They knew each other so well, could practically feel every emotion the other experienced, and it created such a strong bond between them that would enable them to overcome pretty much any obstacle ever laid in their path.

She slipped her fingers into the waiting hand and allowed the older woman to pull her closer. They now stood shoulder to shoulder and a soft thumb began stroking Andy's palm, causing a tightness in the brunette's chest that threatened to bring tears.

The store clerk returned from the backroom with a bouquet of pink lilies and Miranda briefly withdrew her hand to pay, before thanking the old man, reclaiming her hold on Andy and gently tugging the brunette back outside.

The sound of gravel crunching under the weight of their feet accompanied their silence, as they walked along the main path between row upon row of headstones. Andy had never been on a cemetery before and she felt oddly drawn to the otherworldly serenity that lay over the graves. Miranda had tightened her grip and their joined hands swung between them with every step they took.

"Andrea," the conductor began softly, her voice testing and strangely hesitant. "Your mother did not just ask me to take good care of you."

_I knew it._ "What, did she threaten you? Did she say something mean?" The brunette was instantly ready to defend Miranda against anything her mother might have flung her way.

"No." The older woman stopped walking and turned to face Andy. "No, Darling. Nothing like that." Andy recognised great sadness in Miranda's gaze and her heart sank because she knew that the sorrow she had witnessed in the conductor's face earlier wasn't just for Cassidy, but something else entirely.

"Miranda... what is it. Please tell me." Andy tried hard not to panic as the older woman pulled her closer and began stroking her cheek.

"You know the talk I had with your mother this morning, when you came back from your shower?" The brunette nodded. "Well, she had confided in me with something that was too hard for her to tell you herself, and when we said goodbye this afternoon, she asked me to do it for her." There was definite wetness shimmering from Miranda's eyes in the dim light from the rusty light poles that lined the path, and Andy felt her own eyes burn in return.

"Miranda, you're scaring me," she whispered.

"Oh Darling. It's alright, it's in the past. But I think it's something you should know." She tenderly pressed her lips to the younger woman's forehead before pulling away far enough to lovingly look into her eyes.

"Andrea, you had an older sister."

Andy's entire body suddenly went still and it felt as if even her blood had stopped flowing. Sorrow gripped at the corners of her mouth, forcing her jaw open and heavy tears violently began spilling from her lashes.

"W-what?" She croaked, barely audible.

"She died when she was only four weeks old, and her name was Alexandra." Miranda whispered gently as she pulled the sobbing young woman closer. Andy had no strength in her arms to return the embrace and her hands just rested loosely between their bodies, unable to move.

"When...?"

"Four years before you were born." The older woman began to gently rock Andy in her arms and as the feeling in her limbs returned, the brunette gingerly reached around Miranda and locked her arms against the conductor as tightly as she could, completely succumbing to sobs. Images of what it would have been like to grow up with a sister flashed before her, and she remembered how lonely she had always felt and how pained the expression on her parents' faces had been when she had, in her childish naivety, requested a sibling to play with.

They stood together in the middle of the dimly-lit path, on the otherwise deserted cemetery, and as if on cue the wind picked up and ghosted stray leaves around their ankles. Andy shivered and attempted to crawl deeper into the embrace, burying her wet face against the soft wool of the Christmas scarf, the symbol of hers and Miranda's love. She took a shaky breath and tried to relax as the older woman traced gentle circles across her upper back.

"Shhh, it's alright, my Darling."

The brunette sniffled and slowly pulled away to look into Miranda's beautiful face. "You know... it explains a few things."

Tenderly wiping at the tears on Andy's reddened cheeks the conductor nodded. "I thought it might."

"When I told her a-about Cassidy," the younger woman hiccuped as she tried to even out her breathing, "... there was something... it felt as if Mom wanted to say something... But then she didn't."

"Yes. I tried to persuade her to tell you herself, but I guess it's too difficult to take that step after such a long time of keeping secrets." Miranda's eyes were warm and full of understanding. "However you are welcome to ask her about it, now that you know." Andy nodded and then took a deep, steadying breath.

"Thank you. For telling me."

Standing in the cold winter wind, under the first few stars of the evening, with such sudden sorrow lain across her heart, felt surreal and strangely poetic, and Andy realised that Miranda holding her tightly, in this warm embrace of love and trust, was the most beautiful thing she had ever experienced.

It was this very moment that she understood that they were true soul mates. Two people, who had found each other in the midst of the enormous, thorn-ridden forest called 'Life'. Two people, who had disregarded technicalities of age and gender and had immediately connected on the deepest of levels, reaching out toward one another, across the countless red ribbons that fate had spun around them.

It brought fresh tears to her eyes and she pressed forward to cling to Miranda once more, inhaling her scent and letting go of everything else but them.

"I love you so much, Miranda..." she whispered against the conductor's temple. "Words seem so inadequate..."

The older woman squeezed back so tightly that it nearly hurt, but Andy would have gladly offered a few cracked ribs.

"I love you, too, Darling."

They pulled away, and relinking their hands they continued their walk toward Cassidy's resting place.

* * *

Andrea leaned loosely against Miranda's shoulder as the older woman fumbled with the lock of her apartment. They were still holding hands, making it rather difficult to open the door, but after a few more seconds the conductor managed and they stepped inside.

As Miranda switched on the lights, the brunette dropped her overnight bag on the hallway floor and then turned to fully wrap her arms around the older woman. Miranda kissed Andrea's temple and whispered, "Tired?"

"Nuh-uh. I just felt cuddly," the younger woman replied sheepishly and then briefly rubbed their noses together before pulling away and offering a shy grin.

Miranda returned the smile and slipped out of her heels. "Come on, let's eat and then we can cuddle all night."

After removing the rest of their outer wear, they padded into the kitchen, hand-in-hand, and the conductor opened the fridge.

"Oh wow. What happened here?" Andrea asked as she stood behind Miranda and rested her chin lightly on the conductor's shoulder, studying the fully stocked shelves.

"Since I will have a hungry teenage monster living with me soon," the older woman paused for a moment, choosing her next words carefully, "... and I'm hoping to have you and your Tardis-like stomach around as often as possible, I thought should be prepared."

The soft giggle next to her ear felt like a homecoming, and she leaned back into the embrace as Andrea snaked her arms around her waist and grabbed at something in the vegetable drawer.

"Do you mind if I make us a salad? It's quick and light."

Miranda smiled and turned her head to kiss the brunette's cheek. "No, I don't mind. Go ahead, Darling." She then stepped away and leaned against the kitchen table, watching as the younger woman began chopping up carrots, romaine lettuce and Roma tomatoes. Andrea worked in silence but there was definite communication going on between the two of them. Mainly between the conductor's eyes and the brunette's backside.

A lot of her earlier arousal and blind, physical need had been blocked out during their visit to Cassidy's grave, and now it lay deep inside of her, brooding away in a half-slumber, waiting to finally be released. Andrea was definitely teasing when she tasted the homemade Caesar dressing by languidly sucking on her finger and looking at Miranda through lowered lids.

As they ate, their feet found each other under the table and began a quiet dance up and down the other's calves. Soon they were no longer eating, and the conductor reached across their still half full plates to capture the brunette's hand in her own.

"Come," she whispered, and the slight shiver that rippled through Andrea at the sound of her seductive voice, caused a silly grin to form on the conductor's lips.

They stood and Miranda gently pulled the younger woman down the hall and into the master bathroom where she let go of her hand in order to adjust the water taps of the claw-foot bathtub. She then watched as Andrea's eyes slowly glazed over and the brunette subconsciously licked her lips. The action fully awoke any festering desires that might still have been hibernating in the depths of Miranda's soul, and with renewed need she moved forward and slowly began undressing the brunette.

She lingered on every single button of Andrea's cardigan, making sure the warmth of her fingertips penetrated through the thin layers of cotton and caused the younger woman to close her eyes with a sigh. After slipping the striped garment off shaky shoulders she tugged at the plain white shirt and deftly pulled it over the brunette's head.

Andrea stood before her unmoved, her large, brown eyes full of trust and love. Miranda reached down and slowly unbuttoned the black jeans, revealing inch after inch of cotton briefs that matched the baby blue of the younger woman's bra. She gently tugged down the pants and assisted the brunette with stepping out of them, taking the socks off as well.

The beautiful sight of the love of her life standing before her in nothing but underwear, chest heaving, cheeks flushed, and eyes shining with so many different, delicious things, curled itself around the conductor's heart and she had difficulty breathing. Andrea just waited patiently until the older woman's fingers found their way to the clasp of her bra, freeing the soft mounds from confinement and divesting the garment on the pile of discarded clothing, before travelling lower and sliding under the waistband of her briefs. When Miranda slid down the final piece of clothing she picked up the clear scent of the younger woman's arousal and she had stop herself from having her fill of Andrea there and then.

Instead she held out her hand to guide the brunette toward the tub. After the younger woman had lowered herself into the water and sat amid the puffs of foam, staring lustfully back at the conductor, Miranda began to strip off her own clothing. Piece after piece fell onto the floor, and the awed gulps and adorable sighs from Andrea ensured that by the time Miranda removed her underwear, she was thoroughly wet.

The blatant way the brunette feasted her eyes on her bare body made the conductor feel slightly self-conscious and she hurried to step into the bath and settle behind Andrea.

When the younger woman slid back and in between her parted thighs, they both hummed at the intimate contact. The heat of the water buzzed every single one of her muscles into a state of bliss and she gently pulled Andrea closer against herself, allowing the younger woman's back to lie heavily against her chest.

"Hmmm, this is so nice...," Andrea sighed as she let her head roll back onto Miranda's shoulder.

The conductor chuckled. "Darling, this is just the preparation stage."

Andrea's resulting throaty laugh vibrated through Miranda's chest and she reached for a sponge, applied some body soap, and began lathering up the younger woman's arms and shoulders. Andrea hummed contently as the conductor meticulously washed every part of the brunette's body, making a special effort around the luscious breasts and in between the thighs, before using the sponge on herself. The younger woman turned around and their eyes remained locked as Miranda guided the sponge between her own legs, gazing lovingly at Andrea while the softness brushed against her center.

They didn't speak when the older woman stepped from the tub and wrapped an over-sized towel, first around herself, and then around Andrea, before she assisted the slightly shivering brunette out of the tub. So many emotions rushed through Miranda as she began to tenderly dry off Andrea. She wanted to cherish this beautiful angel, to make her feel loved and show her how much she meant to the conductor. At the same time, Miranda could barely contain the blind need that commanded her to rip off the towel and push Andrea's soft body against the tiled wall in a frenzy.

The mutual gaze that connected them became too intense and before Miranda could even react, Andrea's lips were on hers, warm and pliant, abruptly setting the conductor's whole body on fire. The older woman knew that if they didn't move now, they would never make it into bed, so she gently pushed the brunette backward until they found themselves in the adjoining room.

Her body humming with anticipation, Miranda broke the kiss and stepped away, drowning in the younger woman's glazed-over eyes. Soon the towels had fallen to the floor and the conductor took Andrea by the hand and pushed her onto the silken bed sheet. She wanted to take it slow, worship every inch of the brunette, but her own body screamed at her to ravish Andrea, who gazed up at where Miranda knelt. She was so torn between her conflicting desires that tears welled up in her eyes and she lay down next to the younger woman, burying her face in the luscious, dark hair.

"Miranda, are you okay?" Andrea asked sweetly.

"Yes... I just want you so much..." she breathed hotly against the brunette's neck. "... that I don't know where to begin." She curled into Andrea's warm body and pulled the younger woman close.

* * *

Andy's heart burst at the older woman's admission and she slung her arms and legs tightly around Miranda, pressing them deliciously together from head to toe.

She sighed and then, with strength born from desire, flipped the conductor onto her back. The flush to the older woman's cheeks was clearly visible under the soft bedroom lights and Andy slowly trailed her fingers along Miranda's arms while sitting up and straddling the older woman around the middle. Her eyes never leaving the conductor's, she gently brought one of Miranda's hands to her mouth, and pressed open-mouthed kisses into the palm.

"I love your hands. Your beautiful hands..." she murmured against the supple skin and then slowly trailed her lips lower until they pressed against the pulse point just below the wrist. When she began to greedily suck at the sensitive skin there, Miranda squirmed and lowered her lids with a moan.

"Andrea..."

The brunette smiled, allowing her teeth to graze against the protruding tendons, which sent a wave of shivers through the older woman. She continued to suckle at the soft skin, slowly moving her lips along the inside of Miranda's arm, across the smooth shoulder and toward her neck. She spent long minutes kissing, licking and sucking the conductor's throat, communicating her day full of frustrated desires with her mouth.

"Oh god, Andrea..." the older woman moaned, the sound traveling from her skin directly onto Andy's lips, where it tickled and caused another smile. Miranda's hands roamed freely across the brunette's back and Andy had some difficulty keeping her focus.

She lazily slid lower, planting sweet kisses on the conductor's collar bone and the soft expanse of her upper chest, until her mouth finally closed around a stiffened nipple, eliciting a delightful cry from Miranda.

Andy's tongue danced tenderly over the little peak, molding around every little bump and ridge, pressing rhythmically against the flesh as it rose and fell with each suction. The older woman's hands had freed Andy's hair from its ponytail by now and languidly stroked through the dark strands, as she hummed and moaned her appraisal.

"Hmmm, Darling..."

Andy was in complete and utter bliss. Miranda's responses were truly exquisite and if she didn't have bigger plans, she would have lingered there longer. However, she was still too far away from her ultimate goal, and after a few more kisses, and with a sense of regret she released the reddened mounds and moved further down.

This was her treasure, her gift to claim. Miranda readily offered herself, arching up as Andy settled between her legs. The brunette wanted to communicate through her touch, from one body to another, that Miranda was the single most important entity in the universe to her. She tenderly slid her hands under the older woman's thighs pulling her up and toward her.

She leaned forward, revelling in the clean and distinct smell of the love of her life. It was so intimate and beautiful that her heart ached, and with a lust-drunk smile on her lips she extended her tongue and took one full, long lick. Miranda arched off the mattress as Andy began to worship her body with determination. The brunette had to hold on to the hips that rose greedily against her, and as she opened her mouth and pressed the slick muscle further and past the barrier, smooth thighs closed around her ears in an almost painful crash.

Miranda seemed to dance with each command of the younger woman's tongue; a slave to the skillful mouth that had declared her a goddess and was now consuming her in sweet prayer. The room was filled with the older woman's incoherent chanting and the gentle smacking noises of Andy's ministrations, and as the brunette thrust deeper into Miranda, she realised that now _she_ was the conductor, playing a symphony on the older woman's body, that was at her complete and utter mercy.

A possessive need overtook her, and her movements became firmer and more precise, sending Miranda into a spiral of frantic movement and a chorus of unbridled moans. With the risk of suffocation, Andy allowed her nose to press firmly into the older woman's flesh and she felt Miranda come undone.

Everything around her hummed in sweet spasms as the beautiful woman beneath her lips floated off the bed in silent bliss, before slowly crashing back down into the mussed, silken sheets. A final flood bathed Andy's tongue and mouth and she drank hungrily, as if Miranda was the fabled well of the Water of Life itself.

Weakened fingers began grabbing at her shoulders and with a last kiss to the delicious softness, the brunette allowed herself to be pulled upward and into waiting arms. The frantic hammering of Miranda's heartbeat and both their laboured breathing was the only sound for a while, until the older woman hummed against Andy's throat and squeezed her tightly.

"I have no words..." Her raspy chuckle travelled down Andy's spine like hot cocoa. "Oh my god..."

"Miranda, I love you. Forever." The brunette sighed dreamily into the damp, silver hair and felt herself drift off into content slumber while Miranda planted a sweet kiss on her shoulder.

"I love you too, my Andrea. Always."

* * *

To be continued...


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **For some reason this chapter gave me a lot of trouble. I deleted over five-thousand words and started over because it somehow all went wrong. :3 I guess sometimes you just derail and need to take a step back or something. Sorry that this made it take long longer to get finished... Sorry!

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Andy leaned against the worn-down elevator wall as the cabin ascended through the community centre building. Her week had been exhausting, but also oddly comforting, as it had seen a significant progression of her relationship with Miranda. She had pulled double-shifts on Tuesday and Thursday, but had enjoyed the conductor's offer of spending the nights and mornings, in the older woman's apartment, which was only a few blocks away from The Mirror. It had greatly cut down on travel time, and the sensation of snuggling into Miranda's arms after a sixteen-hour work day had been pure bliss.

She had spent a busy few days researching the "Opus 118 Harlem School of Music", had spoken with teachers and students and interviewed scrupulous school board officials for her series on the cuts to arts and music education programmes. The evenings when Andy had arrived at Miranda's apartment rather late, the conductor had been waiting with delicious, albeit ordered, food and had attentivelfy listened to the journalist's sleepy babble. A snug, homey feeling had enveloped Andy, and the strain and tension of each day had disappeared as soon as Miranda had kissed her.

The elevator doors opened and she strolled along the hall with a spring in her step. On Wednesday afternoon she had assisted the older woman with putting the finishing touches to Caroline's new bedroom. Workers had spent two days getting the colours of the walls and woodwork just right, and Andy had to admit that her former teenage self would have been utterly jealous of the rockstar-quality of Caroline's new abode. Miranda had glowed at the brunette's vivid approval and had thoroughly spoiled her in bed that night.

Not that she didn't usually spoil Andy. Their lovemaking was so beautiful and rich, so tender, yet demanding, so soul-shattering, that Andy knew nothing else would ever compare. Sometimes their connection was so intense that they had to stop what they were doing and simply hold each other, and in those moments Andy realised that, no matter how young their relationship was, she needed Miranda by her side for the rest of her life. The conductor wasn't some mere, blinding addiction, no, she was the single, most important reason for Andy's survival, trumping even oxygen and food.

With a lazy, love-ridden smile, the journalist pulled open the door and waltzed into the auditorium, her eyes immediately finding the regal figure of Miranda standing by the piano and talking to Nigel. As if instinctively sensing her lover's presence, the older woman turned her head and locked eyes with the brunette. There was no need for secret signs of acknowledgement, their gazes already spoke volumes. So Andy simply stored her coat and bag at their usual spot on the front row seats, and grabbing her sheet music, she climbed the few stairs up to the stage to join the already present group of singers.

Rehearsal was a successful mixture of refining the beautifully arranged harmonies of "Scarborough Fair" and exchanging inconspicuous, but promising glances with Miranda. Andy was surprised at how well the song was suited for the choir, but she knew most of it was thanks to the conductor's skill of reading and adapting music. There was a specific line in the song where the four distinct voices split into eight, producing a range of different frequencies that vibrated through Andy's entire body. It encompassed the auditorium, and everyone in it, in an intense cloud of sound that caused delicious goose bumps and spread warmth across tired skin.

After Miranda's final speech and her customary 'that's all', an awed silence rested over the choir as the men and women began their journey home. The young journalist grinned to herself as she slowly packed her things and grabbed her coat. Miranda was pure brilliance. If they kept going like this, the preliminary rounds would be a piece of cake.

Andy leaned against one of the front row seats and while the rest of the singers trickled away from the auditorium, she patiently watched how the older woman elegantly gathered her papers from the grand piano. When Miranda turned around their gazes met and thanks to the nearly empty surroundings, the conductor allowed a tiny smile that buried itself deep into the brunette's heart.

"Oh, would you bloody stop it?"

With a roll of her eyes, Andy turned around and faced the owner of the quiet, but venomous voice.

"What's your problem, Emily?"

The redhead had been ignoring her throughout the previous week, but Andy had known that it would only be a matter of time before Emily eventually blew. That moment was apparently now.

"You," the redhead hissed, "and _Her Majesty_, that bloody twat." She pointed at Miranda who seemed to study their exchange with alerted interest.

"What did you just call her?" The brunette's happy feelings had evaporated and fury now rolled through her veins like an angry steam train.

"You heard me." The Briton scoffed as she donned her coat. "The way you eye-shag each other makes me sick." She pinned Andy down with a fiery look and scrunched up her nose. "I come here to sing, not to throw up."

And with that Emily grabbed her bag and stormed out of the auditorium.

Unsure about exactly what had just happened, the brunette only blinked at the closed door until she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Miranda's warm voice embraced her and Andy allowed herself to relax with a deep sigh.

"Yeah, I guess. Just getting tired of people freaking out on me."

A careful look around the vast room ensured that they were alone, and the journalist reached up to tenderly stroke the older woman's fingers.

"She has feelings for you, you know that right?" Miranda said softly.

"Pff... you mean feelings of intense _hate_." Andy grumbled.

Miranda closed the distance between their bodies, snaked her arms around the younger woman's waist and rested her chin on Andy's shoulder. "The line between love and hate is often blurred, Andrea."

"I don't believe it. Emily has been nasty from the moment I joined the choir." The thought of the redhead harbouring any kind of affection for her seemed preposterous to Andy. _First Nate and now Emily? They're just crazy, that's all it is._

As if reading the brunette's mind, Miranda nuzzled the spot behind Andy's jaw joint and whispered, "Why is the thought of someone finding you attractive so strange to you? You're incredibly beautiful, smart, funny and unbelievably kind."

The journalist wanted to snort but the wonderful sensation of Miranda's warm breath on her skin turned the sound of exasperation into a blissful hum. She pressed her hips back into the conductor's soft curves and sighed happily. As soon as she felt the older woman's touch, all her worries simply ceased to exist. She reached back to slide her hand from the nape of Miranda's neck into the conductor's short, silver hair, curling her fingers and allowing her nails to teasingly stroke across the older woman's scalp. Miranda rewarded the action with an adorable mewing sound and a sensual forward push of her hips that turned Andy's abdomen into jelly.

"Come on. Let's get out of here."

* * *

Miranda watched in awe as Andrea bit the tip of her tongue in severe concentration. The brunette sat on the living room floor, wrapping Caroline's present and was encountering some problems with the dark blue paper and a roll of sticky tape. The warm light from the Tiffany floor lamp cascaded down on Andrea, causing her long lashes to cast delicate shadows across her cheeks as she slowly peeled off some misplaced pieces of tape and attempted to hold the wrapping paper in place.

The conductor set aside her pencil and the stack of sheet music and slid down onto the carpet to assist the younger woman.

"Here, let me..."

She leaned forward on her knees and slid her fingers over the large guitar case, straightening the paper in the process and meticulously aligning the edges.

Her eyes never left the brunette's face as Andrea carefully stuck small pieces of scotch tape along the corners, chewing on her bottom lip and using her fingers to smooth away any potential air bubbles. The conductor realised how young Andrea looked at that moment, and a painful burn spread itself through her chest. Suddenly Miranda felt old and silly. It was almost like an afternoon of crafts with her daughter. The two-decade gap between them was momentarily blinding.

When the younger woman finished she looked up, lashes still impossibly long and the sweetest glow to her cheeks as she leaned closer and whispered, "Thank you."

The unpleasant burn in her chest intensified, and the conductor involuntarily flinched. Of course Andrea picked up on the tiny movement and sat back with a puzzled expression.

"Miranda, are you alright? You've been kind of quiet since rehearsal."

The older woman regarded the brunette, the lamp casting a beautiful halo onto Andrea's rich, chestnut hair. Miranda loved her beyond words, but her desire to lean over and touch the younger woman only fuelled the sudden unease in the pit of her stomach. What if she was bad for Andrea? What if she held her back? The journalist was young, and obviously popular, although she didn't seem to realise that yet. How long until she'd grow tired of Miranda and move on with someone closer to her own age?

"Mira... if something upset you, please talk to me."

Andrea reached out and clasped her hand around Miranda's. The shortened version of her name sounded so perfect and delicious on the brunette's lips, and the conductor knew that she would not be able to let Andrea go. She felt possessive and it scared her.

She pushed off the floor and seated herself back on the sofa. The younger woman was visibly worried and Miranda released a deep sigh, knowing that honesty was one of the most important things between them.

"How is it that the age difference between us doesn't bother you?" Her hands found each other and she began to fidget with her fingers.

"Uhm... what?" The brunette seemed taken aback by the sudden topic. "I... I don't know. It just doesn't." Andrea crawled forward on her hands and knees to then settle by the conductor's feet, and she reached up and took the older woman's nervous hands into her own. "I love you Miranda. I don't care about our ages. I see you, and I know that I belong, that I'm home."

The words, so sweet and sincere helped ease some of the tension around her heart, but doubt still gnawed at Miranda.

"What if you'll get bored of me in the future... and leave me for somebody younger?" The deep breath she took was shaky. "What if I don't survive that?" She added in almost a whisper.

Andrea's grip on her fingers tightened. "Why would you even think something like that, Miranda? Is it because of what idiots like Nate and Emily said about you?"

No reply would come from her lips, but Miranda knew that the vicious stabs at her age had left their mark. The brunette understood, and she rose from the floor.

"I don't care what they say, Miranda. I don't care what anyone says. They will never touch my feelings for you. My heart belongs to you, and _only_ you." Her face drifted closer until she pressed her mouth sweetly against the conductor's lips. It was a strong-willed kiss of reassurance and Miranda felt more of her doubts fall away. When they parted, Andrea held onto the older woman's cheeks and stared deeply into her eyes.

"You're everything I will ever need. Please believe me."

Miranda nodded, overwhelmed by the brunette's intensity. "I believe you."

With a satisfied smile, Andrea let go of her face and walked toward the hallway.

"Where are you going?"

There was no answer but after a few seconds the younger woman returned with her own guitar case.

"Andrea, it's past eleven. The neighbours will complain."

The brunette retrieved the instrument from it's casing and sat down on the sofa armrest opposite Miranda, her feet resting on the cushions.

"It'll be okay, I promise it won't be too loud."

Miranda raised a brow, pretty much suspecting the contrary. She hadn't seen or heard Andrea play guitar yet, but she knew how the sound waves carried and the walls of her apartment were rather thin.

As soon as the brunette began to softly strum the nylon strings, though, the conductor forgot about the neighbours, and she settled back into the sofa and watched mesmerised as Andrea's fingers danced along the frets. Then, to her surprise, the younger woman began to sing.

_"I just want you close... where you can stay forever... you can be sure... that it will only get better..."_

Somehow in the scope of this intimacy between them, Andrea's voice had a sexy smokiness to it that she didn't possess during choir rehearsal, and the sound of it completely captured the conductor.

_"You and me together... through the days and nights... I don't worry 'cause everything's gonna be alright."_

Andrea smiled through the words and Miranda felt herself swoon.

_"People keep talking... they can say what they like... but all I know is... everything's gonna be alright..."_

Here the conductor heard the slight anger in the way the younger woman sang, and Miranda felt foolish for letting other people's trash-talk get to her.

_"And no one, no one, no one... can get in the way of what I'm feeling... no one, no one, no one... can get in the way of what I feel for you... you... you, can get in the way of what I feel for you..."_

They held each other's gaze, allowing the magnetic pull between them to drown out everything else. There it was again, that intense connection. The lingering presence they felt constantly while it was calmly resting in the background, but which also rose to the surface every time they shared music or kisses... or orgasms. Miranda brought her legs up from the floor and stretched them out over the length of the sofa, turning her ankles so her feet were curled around the brunette's.

_"When the rain is pouring down... and my heart is hurting... you will always be around... this I know for certain..."_

The love and sincerity in those brown eyes called out to Miranda, and she scooted closer and sat before Andrea and pressed her palms against the younger woman's calves. The brunette shivered and closed her eyes, her voice becoming slightly less steady.

_"You and me together... through the days and nights... I don't worry 'cause everything's gonna be alright."_

The younger woman's pantyhose couldn't contain the heat that radiated off Andrea's legs and Miranda slowly trailed her hands higher and toward the hem of the brunette's skirt.

_"People keep talking... they can say what they like... but all I know is... everything's gonna be alright."_

By now, half the words were merely a whisper and on several occasions Andrea had to swallow hard between lines.

_"No one, no one, no one... can get in the way of what I'm feeling... no one, no one, no one... can get in the way of what I feel for you... you... you, can get in the way of what I feel for you."_

When naughty fingers slid along inner thighs, the younger woman reopened her eyes and looked down at Miranda, cheeks flushed and chest heaving with emotion and sensation.

_"I know some people search the world... to find something like what we have... I know people will try... try to divide something so real... so, till the end of time, I'm telling you there's no one." _

Andrea stopped playing the guitar but continued singing while propping the instrument against the edge of the side table, her gaze remaining locked with Miranda's.

_"No one, no one, no one... can get in the way of what I'm feeling... no one, no one, no one..._

With a languid slide, Andrea moved off the armrest and lowered herself onto the conductor's lap, placing her knees to either side and dipping her forehead against Miranda's. She whispered the final words.

_"...can get in the way of what I feel for... you."_

The conductor's arms had wrapped themselves around Andrea's torso and with a firm push against the brunette's upper back Miranda pulled the younger woman into a passionate kiss. Nimble hands slipped deftly under the older woman's sweater and up her bare back as their tongues eagerly rolled together like mating snakes. Their noses pressed against each other, tickling as both women moaned, and Miranda slowly tugged them down the sofa so she could recline back against the pillows.

Once comfortably in place she pulled firmly at Andrea's hips and guided the brunette's pelvis against her lower abdomen. The younger woman groaned at the contact, her spread legs and ridden-up skirt allowing full access.

"Ugh... Mira..." She bent forward and pulled at the sweater under her thighs, exposing Miranda's bare stomach. When Andrea pressed back down against the warm skin, she threw her head back, flashing her slender, creamy neck to the conductor's eyes. The older woman groaned.

"I want your legs bare. Now."

Her fingers were already impatiently tugging at the waistband of the pantyhose before the brunette even had a chance to lift her hips. In a matter of seconds, and thanks to refined skills, Miranda felt the incredible softness of Andrea's inner sides press against her stomach. The younger woman's silk panties were definitely drenched and the sticky heat against her skin drove the conductor wild. With a greedy tug, she pulled Andrea down for another kiss.

All the earlier doubt was easily squashed by the unbridled responses the younger woman was giving her. Andrea moaned when Miranda rubbed her palms along the exposed thighs and around her backside for a languid squeeze.

"Mira... I'm yours." She murmured between kisses. "Only yours. Forever. My heart, soul and body belong to only you..."

"Hmmm, Andrea..." Miranda guided the younger woman's eager hips up and then began unzipping her own slacks. At first the brunette groaned in protest until she understood and assisted the conductor in pulling off the garment.

* * *

The beautiful sight before her was so overwhelming it lured tears. Miranda's shoulder-free brown sweater was pushed up and exposed the conductor's flat stomach, which gently heaved with every laboured breath the older woman took. Her smooth legs were now bare except for the black lace panties, and her hair was mussed from their previous kisses. The slight flush to her otherwise pale cheeks and the raw, brooding glimmer in her darkened eyes were the siren call Andy could not resist, and the brunette hastily unzipped the back of her skirt and shimmied out of it as quickly and gracefully as she could manage.

As soon as their lower bodies were bare, save for the underwear, Andy nudged a knee between Miranda's thighs and lowered herself back onto the older woman. She slid her arms along the conductor's sides, under the cashmere wool of the sweater, and hugged their chests together. Instead of capturing the enticing mouth in another kiss, she buried her face in the curve between shoulder and neck and began to suckle on the incredibly soft skin.

"Hmmm... Mira... I've wanted to... hmmm... do this all evening." She murmured while licking along a delicate collar bone. "This sweater always kills me..."

Miranda's chuckle changed into a moan as the brunette sucked hard at the base of her throat. Andy loved the skin there. It was soft and so sensitive. The older woman writhed beneath her, pushing a thigh against Andy's centre and causing both to exhale sharply at the amount of moisture that had proven too much for the thin layer of silk. The younger woman couldn't resist sitting up and grinding against the powerful leg, shivers dancing through her muscles. The sensation forced her head back and her lids, heavy with desire, closed.

"Ah... Mira..."

Quickly Andy's blouse and sweater were pushed up when warm hands expertly unclasped her bra and then glided slowly to the front. The conductor began to tenderly stroke and massage the younger woman's breasts, joining the rhythm of their hips as they swayed in dreamy waves.

Andy lost herself in the increasing pressure, feeling the strong muscle of Miranda's upper leg - trained by many years of walking in high heels - work between her own thighs. The older woman was touching her almost possessively and the brunette knew she wanted to give herself to Miranda completely and forever. She didn't want the conductor to worry about other people stealing her away anymore.

"Mira... claim me."

"What?"

"Claim me. Please... make me yours."

Miranda's nostrils flared and she leaned up to pull the remaining garments off Andy's torso. The apartment was warm enough, but the sudden contrast in temperature still had the brunette gasping. After carelessly tossing Andy's blouse and sweater behind the sofa the older woman slowly slid her hands up the brunette's thighs and then firmly cupped her centre through the ruined silk.

The urge to close her eyes was strong, but Andy managed to gaze back at Miranda through lowered lashes, revelling in the pulsing current of electricity between them. There was no point in playing around or tease. On some days they would make love slowly, tenderly, drawing things out to simply bask in each other's presence. Today was no such day. Sucking on her bottom lip Andy undulated against the conductor's hand, inviting her, begging her.

With the other arm pressing against Andy's lower back, Miranda trailed her fingernails up the silk panties and used her index finger to slip under the waistband. Without pause or hesitation her hand dove into slick heat and entered Andy with a single, determined push. The brunette's hips bucked as three fingers melted into her and she held on to Miranda's shoulders, sensations flooding her consciousness. Warm, wet lips closed around her nipple and the conductor began sucking in the rhythm of their joined thrusts.

"Ahh... Mira..."

She felt stretched, filled, possessed and loved. And so safe. Miranda's hold on her was secure and allowed Andy to completely let herself go. When the older woman propped up her high, effectively pushing her fingers deeper inside the brunette, Andy rolled her head back and groaned in pleasure. No one could do what Miranda did.

At that moment nothing else in the universe mattered. The moon could crash into earth and all the stars could fall from the heavens for all Andy cared. The only thing that existed for her now was Miranda. How her tongue caressed her aching nipples, how those soft lips moved from one breast to the other, planting deep, bruising kisses on the skin along the way. And the conductor's beautiful hands, one so deeply buried inside Andy, and the other possessively cupping her butt, pulling at the cheeks with each motion. How those elegant fingertips brushed against her inner walls, teasing her pulse, racing it toward the glorious finish line. And the warm palm, so viciously pressing between her legs and against the bundle of nerves in a steady rhythm, caused even the last tiny sliver of control to slip from Andy's grasp.

"Darling, come for me now," Miranda husked while she flexed her fingers, stretching Andy almost painfully.

The brunette pushed hard, impaling herself on the conductor, wanting to feel every inch of how Miranda marked her territory. She could sense the faint tingle, rushing like a tidal wave from a great distance at amazing speed. Anticipation already had her moaning and then her body clamped up like a spring, tremor after tremor rippling through her as she clung to Miranda for dear life. Every one of her muscles tightened, and in the corner of her mind, within the last grains of remaining consciousness, she worried that the force of her clenched thighs and clawing fingers would injure the older woman.

Miranda, however, just hummed in bliss as she safely guided Andy through the intensity of her orgasm.

"Mine," she murmured against the brunette's slick, upper chest as Andy slowly came down, revelling in a last few languid thrusts and squeezes.

Dipping her head forward, the younger woman then rested her head on the exposed curve between Miranda's neck and shoulder and attempted to catch her breath.

"Yes... yours. Forever."

The older woman held her tightly, keeping her fingers still buried inside and suckling on Andy's collar bone.

"And I'm yours, Andrea. Always."

Andy sighed happily and trailed kisses along the conductor's jaw until their lips found each other. They kissed lovingly, tenderly, until Miranda began slowly thrusting her fingers again. The brunette yelped in surprise but quickly joined the rhythm and undulated her sore flesh against the demanding digits. Much of their previous lovemaking had included multiple climaxes, but never this shortly after another. It was delicious and foggy, so hot and messy, and Andy was a slave to the sensation. Suddenly a fierce burning thundered over her and through her muscles like an avalanche. It was almost like an echo of the first wave, but this one was much harsher in intensity, tearing into her almost violently, and she lost her grip on Miranda.

A warm arm held her gently in place as she slowly descended once more, aftershocks rippling through her like the final tremors of an enormous earthquake.

"Oh dear god... Mira..." she groaned breathlessly.

The older woman gave a happy chuckle and gently withdrew her fingers. She tenderly rested her hand between Andy's thighs, her warm palm soothing the agitated flesh.

"So... have I _claimed_ you sufficiently?" She asked with a grin that spoke of victory and absolute conquest.

"Ugh... oh, _fuck_ yes..."

With bits of strength returning, Andy pulled Miranda close and kissed her passionately, shifting their weight so the conductor slowly fell back against the cushions.

"Now... you said something about being mine as well..." She pressed her thigh firmly against the older woman's lace panties, slick warmth coating her skin immediately.

Miranda's answer was only a purr and Andy happily slipped her hands under the older woman's sexy, brown sweater.

* * *

Saturday brought a peaceful morning with sunshine that warmed chilled faces, and Miranda stood near the cemetery gates basking in the absence of biting winds. Andrea and her were waiting for Caroline and the girl's grandparents to arrive in order to visit Cassidy's grave together on the twins' birthday. The conductor felt a certain melancholy at the conflicting emotions surrounding this day. On the one hand they were celebrating Caroline's life, her _Sweet Sixteen_, a significant moment in a teenage girl's life. On the other hand, they came to remember and mourn Cassidy and the young woman she would never get to be.

Andrea stepped closer and linked her arm with the conductor's.

"You okay?"

Miranda turned her head to gaze at her lover and had to smile. The silly green hat sat bunched up on the younger woman's head, allowing a few brown locks to frame her sweet face and cascade down her shoulders, and it made her appear thoroughly elf-like. The early sun revealed shades of copper and dark, rich coffee beans in Andrea's hair and the conductor raised her free hand to stroke an index finger across the brunette's reddened cheek.

"Yes, I'm alright." She tapped Andrea's cold nose. "Thank you."

A silver Lexus pulled into the parking lot and Miranda saw her daughter wave enthusiastically from the backseat. Pulling the brunette by their linked elbows she walked over to greet her parents and Caroline.

"Mom!" The teenager clambered out of the vehicle and, flung herself at the conductor.

"Happy birthday, my Darling." Miranda hugged her daughter fiercely and kissed her cheeks. "How are you feeling?"

Caroline pulled away and accepted her crutch from her grandfather. "I'm good, Mom. Look... only one!" The teenager wiggled the crutch back and forth in emphasis and then turned to Andrea.

"Hi, Andy! Thanks again for the book! I really liked it!"

"No problem. Happy birthday, Caroline!"

Miranda watched their friendly chatter with a sense of elation. She would focus on all the good things today, instead of only mourning the loss of Cassidy. The presence of Andrea and Caroline would certainly help with that.

She greeted her parents and after they and the brunette exchanged pleasantries they began their walk onto the cemetery and in the direction of Cassidy's grave. Andrea remained by her side, their arms entangled, and Caroline hobbled in front of them. Miranda had to admit that her daughter was making amazing progress. She would probably never be able to become a star athlete, but it seemed very possible that she could be moving completely without aid in the near future.

They walked in silence, Marianne and Charles behind them, and their combined footsteps echoed across the otherwise quiet grounds. The conductor kept Andrea close as they neared the weeping willow under which Cassidy was buried. She was glad that she had taken the brunette here already the previous week, for it took some of the tension away and allowed the younger woman to fully support and her and not be intimidated by a first time visit.

Caroline was the first to arrive in front of the grave. She scrambled to the ground and sat next to the headstone to remove the previous week's lilies. Miranda smiled and handed her daughter the fresh flowers.

"Hey Cassie. It's us!" Caroline began as she traced her fingers over the engravings in the cold marble and arranged the pink lilies. "Happy birthday, Sis. We're all thinking of you."

The image of her one daughter sitting next to her other daughter's grave still clawed at the old wounds and the conductor tightened her hold on Andrea. There was something she had planned to do, and although she had prepared for it for two weeks, in her current emotional state the task was daunting. She looked over at her parents, whom she had told about her intentions, and Mr. Priestly gave his daughter an encouraging nod.

With a deep, steadying sigh, Miranda stepped away from the brunette and straightened her shoulders. It shouldn't be that hard. She had rehearsed during the hours Andrea had been at work and she knew she was prepared. Closing her eyes she gave herself over to the sun, the fresh air, and the day.

_"Sleep, my child, for the red-bee hums... the silent twilight falls..." _

She heard a sudden intake of breath and she opened her eyes to see Caroline look up at her with complete shock, which nearly caused Miranda's voice to break.

_"Aibheall from the Grey Rock comes... to wrap the world in thrall."_

She continued singing slowly, quietly; allowing her voice to settle. Her eyes never left Caroline and the headstone as she was singing a lullaby for her babies. It was something she wished she had done before, when they had both still been alive, but of course she couldn't turn back time. The past five years had taught her that. Painfully so.

_"Dusk is drawn, and the Green Man's Thorn is wreathed in rings of fog..."_

Unstoppable tears rolled down her cheeks, and she saw equally glistening tracks on the faces of Caroline and Andrea. She wasn't really sobbing, though, and the tears didn't cause her to falter, so she continued, letting the words dance from her tongue as she put all her love for the twins into the melody.

_"Siabhra sails his boat till morn, upon the Starry Bog. A leanbhan O, the paly moon, hath brimmed her cusp in dew. And weeps to hear the sad sleep-tune... I sing, my love, to you." _

Once she was done her four companions remained silent and mutely regarded her with an air of awe. The conductor felt self-conscious and exposed, and she wondered what her daughter thought of the fact that, now, after sixteen years of refusing to sing, she finally opened that part of herself again, albeit five years too late.

Andrea's fingers carefully intertwined with hers.

"Mira... that was beautiful," the younger woman whispered as her thumb gently stroked the conductor's palm.

Caroline straightened off the ground and hobbled over to tightly wrap her arms around her mother. The teenager didn't say anything, but the firm way she held on to Miranda's waist spoke volumes. On her shoulder the conductor felt the large, warm hand of her father and Marianne drew close to give a teary-eyed nod. The sensation of peace spreading over her heart was overwhelming and Miranda pulled Andrea closer, holding on to her two favourite living girls as a soft breeze teased the low, draping branches of the tree above.

She looked up into the clear sky and sent all her love to Cassidy, hoping that wherever she was, the girl would smile down on them.

* * *

Back in Miranda's apartment Andy stood in the kitchen and was busy arranging sixteen candles on the large, round chocolate cake. The cloud of complete wonder and adoration for the conductor's beautiful singing still floated through her mind, and she smiled to herself as she remembered the sweet burn Miranda's voice had left in her heart. Lost in thought, she didn't hear the door swing open and someone walk behind her until she felt warm hands slide around her middle and come to a rest on her belly.

"Hmmm, that looks sinful. Are you sure you should be eating that?" Miranda murmured close to her ear while softly pressing her hips against Andy's backside.

"Mira, once you've had my chocolate cake, you will never want anything else. It's better than sex!" The brunette hummed as she licked some chocolate off her thumb.

The older woman suddenly pulled her backward.

"Stay away from that cake!" She pinned Andy's arms to her side and placed several wet, open-mouthed kisses just below the younger woman's left ear, causing her to shiver deliciously.

"That cake will need to be destroyed," Miranda proclaimed quietly as she took a step back and turned Andy around. "I can't believe I have to compete with a pile of fat and carbs."

The conductor's beautiful lips were pursed and mischievous blues sparkled at Andy through lowered lashes.

The brunette chuckled and leaned in for a kiss.

"Hmmm..." Miranda moaned as her tongued stroked inside the younger woman's mouth. Andy knew she must still be tasting of the rich, creamy frosting and she smiled into the kiss. When Miranda pulled away she licked her own lips and then looked from Andy to the cake on the counter.

"Hmmm... actually..." She pushed the brunette away and hastily stepped forward.

"Miranda!" Andy giggled and now it was her turn to pull the older woman away from the chocolate temptation.

"That's Caroline's cake! Be patient!"

Being playful with the conductor was one of Andy's favourite things. It seemed to her that Miranda didn't make a habit of sharing that side of hers with others and the young journalist felt privileged and cherished for being allowed this treasure. She slipped her arms tenderly around the older woman's waist and rested her chin on an elegant shoulder.

"If you behave you can have both cake and sex later..."

"Hmmm," Miranda leaned back into the embrace and Andy swayed them gently from side to side.

"I love you, Andrea."

The brunette smiled into soft, silver hair and tightened her grip. "Because I give you sex and delicious cake?"

Miranda gave a pretend annoyed snort. "Obviously."

Nimble fingers slid over Andy's hands and grasped them firmly. "And because you're the most amazing human being, I've ever had the luck to find."

Deeply inhaling the conductor's scent the brunette closed her eyes and committed this perfect moment to memory.

"I love you, too. More than humanly possible."

They remained in their embrace, revelling in simply being together, until a soft knock pulled them out of their shared bliss.

Marianne poked her head around the door.

"Everything alright in here? We're eagerly awaiting _The Cake_."

The two lovebirds sheepishly pulled away and Andy pushed the final two candles into the chocolate icing and then picked up a lighter.

"Okay, here we go!"

Caroline's face lit up beautifully when she not only spotted her first ever home-made birthday cake, but also heard her mother chime in the "Happy Birthday" chorus. As the cake with its sixteen little flames was placed before her on the table she clapped her hands together in delight, looking more like a ten-year-old, than a young adult.

With a single breath she managed to blow out all the candles and then closed her eyes to make a wish. When she opened her lids again she looked at her mother and then Andy with an unreadable expression.

* * *

Miranda woke to the distinct smell of eggs and bacon. As she opened her eyes, bright sunlight greeted her through the curtains, and she craned her neck to look at the alarm clock. _Nine-thirty._ Sitting up she stretched her arms above her head and exhaled deeply through her nose.

The previous day had been wonderful. Caroline had utterly loved her new room and had made it overwhelmingly clear that she couldn't wait to move in with her mother. After dinner the conductor's parents had left for a hotel and Andrea and the teenager had spent a significant amount of the evening practicing on their guitars, a gift Caroline had welcomed with unbridled enthusiasm. The conductor had snuggled into her favourite armchair and had simply watched the two with a warm, comfortable glow in her stomach.

The scent of breakfast wafting in through the closed door proved too enticing to ignore, and Miranda slid out of the bed and into her designer slippers. Donning her favourite cashmere dressing gown she padded past a mirror to somehow tame her unruly bed hair and then quietly opened the door.

Hushed giggles travelled down the hallway as Miranda tiptoed toward the kitchen, and her heart leaped as she carefully pushed open the door and peered inside. Caroline sat perched on the counter next to the stove where Andrea expertly flipped what looked like an omelette in the pan. They were laughing together and the conductor's chest expanded with the loving domesticity of the scene.

Barely able to contain the happy grin on her face, she pushed through the door. "Must you two make such a ruckus on this beautiful Sunday morning?"

"Morning, Mom! We're making breakfast!"

Miranda raised an eyebrow and stepped next to Andrea to place a hand on the younger woman's shoulder and take a peek at the frying pans on the stove.

"Good morning, Beautiful," the brunette turned her head and nuzzled the sensitive area behind the conductor's ear. "You can sit down, I'm nearly done and there's fresh coffee."

With a tender kiss to the younger woman's cheek Miranda allowed a sigh and went in search of a cup.

Only a minute later they were all seated at the kitchen table and the conductor watched as both Andrea and Caroline dug into their eggs with fervour. Miranda brought the steaming coffee to her lips and smiled as her daughter eagerly told the brunette about Dalton and their music education program which included a rock-band and guitar workshops. Andrea listened intently and then offered some information of the research she had been doing into public schools and their lack of funding.

The conductor hadn't really known how bad the situation was for the less privileged schools, but then again, she hadn't really been paying much attention to anything for the past five years. She listened as the young journalist spoke about current initiatives to save art and music at elementary schools and she was completely mesmerised by the passion that caused Andrea's face to appear radiant and full of conviction.

Caroline asked a few intelligent questions and Miranda was in awe at how grown-up and smart her daughter had become. The urge to fall back into self-pity and wallow in lost years was strong, but she was stronger, and she managed to simply enjoy her Sunday morning coffee while basking in the feeling of standing on the verge of something incredibly wonderful.

This situation gave every signal of working out and she realised that sooner, rather than later, she would need to ask Andrea to move in with them. They might become a small family with a broken background and some unforgettable pains, but they would stick together and take care of each other, and Miranda knew that they would make each other very happy.

* * *

To be continued...


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Andy melted into the seat as she allowed the music to wash over her. She had never experienced a concert this intense. She closed her eyes, picturing how the depicted emotions floated across the audience and right at her from the singer's lips, directly from their very hearts. She felt their pain, their love, their melancholy. The beauty of life, of the earth and of that which binds all humans together.

Miranda had promised it would be wonderful, but this performance completely rewrote the way Andy felt about music. The conductor had invited the singers from the community centre to experience the overwhelming beauty of Bulgarian choral music. She had said it would inspire them and enable a better understanding for when they attempted to fuse their own voices together.

Opening her eyes to mere slits, the journalist stole a look to her left, where Miranda sat stoically perched on the red velvet cushion of her seat in a state of tense appreciation. The older woman wasn't really the type who stared open-mouthed and with reddened cheeks like a five-year old, but the way Miranda seemed to lose herself in the weaving voices of the Bulgarian women was the perfect image of controlled awe. Her lips were relaxed, albeit closed, and she took even, slow breaths that had a certain shallowness.

Andy wanted nothing more than to reach out and take Miranda's hand, to seek physical contact as they shared this moment of bliss. Sadly, the presence of a few of their choir's members seated around them restrained Andy, and she had to content herself with the knowledge that she'd have the older woman all to herself soon.

Her attention was pulled back to the stage when the song ended and the colourfully dressed singers bowed to the audience. The crowd was ecstatic, honoring the brilliant performance with a standing ovation that reached all the way to the upper ranks where Andy was seated. As they rose from their seats as well, Andy nearly couldn't hear Miranda's small, happy sigh over the raging applause. But she did, and not only did the sound of it travel pleasantly down her spine, it also filled her belly with a warm glow.

As they made their way through the crowded lobby of the concert hall a few minutes later Andy stayed close behind the conductor, sensing that both of them wanted to desperately be alone and talk about the amazing concert without having to hold back in front of the other choir members. Especially since Emily had been eyeing them venomously the entire evening. Andy really wasn't in the mood for another confrontation.

"Well, well, well."

Miranda stopped so abruptly that the brunette nearly bumped into her.

"Miranda. What a pleasant surprise!"

Andy knew her love well, and right now everything about her posture screamed panic. The journalist reached for Miranda's hand but the conductor turned away to slowly face the owner of the heavily accented, female voice.

"Look at you! You're even more gorgeous than I remember!"

A brooding darkness washed over Andy's mind and she spun around to look at the woman who now walked up to their little entourage focusing solely on Miranda. She was smaller than Andy, had dark, short hair that sported a single silver strand, and the crisp, white collar of her shirt stood up almost like saber teeth, giving her a predatory aura. The menacing smile she wore had all of Andy's alarm bells ringing.

"Jacqueline."

Miranda's voice was unsteady, although it might have sounded sarcastic to anyone but Andy. The Frenchwoman came to a stop less than two feet in front of the conductor, and for a second Andy feared she might lean in to kiss Miranda's cheeks. Instead, Jacqueline extended her arm, and the journalist watched with relief as the older woman completely ignored the offered hand.

"Ah, I see. You're still upset," she lulled with a smirk and pulled back her arm.

"Being upset would require emotional attachment to you, which I assure you, is not the case." Miranda countered evenly, having found most of her bearings again.

"Ouch!" Jacqueline clutched at her chest mockingly and only then allowed her eyes to travel over Andy and the rest of the choir members that had stood next to Miranda in stunned silence.

"Ah, this must be your little community project," she said, flicking a lazy index finger in their direction.

The white hot anger inside Andy was hard to contain, but the brunette's strong wish to not embarrass Miranda won and allowed her to outwardly remain cool. Although she instantly fantasised about showing this French lady her most perfect left hook, Andy took a deep breath and focused on Miranda instead.

Resting her eyes back on the conductor, Jacqueline continued to taunt.

"I find it amusing that you entered a competition for mostly professional choirs... with such amateurs."

Her gaze wandered lower, locked on Miranda's heaving chest and caused all of Andy's muscles to tighten like a spring ready to explode. It had been obvious from her silver-haired lover's reaction who precisely this woman was. However Andy wasn't jealous as much as she was furious for the pain Jacqueline had caused by abandoning Miranda in her time of need.

She thought back at the moment Miranda had opened up for the first time, in the church confessional, and the nightly conversation she had shared with the adorable Miranda-spook in the Priestly's Hamptons home. The bond that tied her to the older woman reassured Andy and she turned to Doug and the rest of the choir.

"Come on, guys. Let's wait outside."

The singers nodded and moved away, but before Andy could follow, Miranda reached for her arm.

"I'm coming, too, Andrea." Her voice was steady but soft. "I have nothing to say to this person."

As they turned to leave, the conductor's hand still on the brunette's arm, Andy caught a glimpse of the dissatisfied expression on Jacqueline's face and secretly felt victorious.

"Who the hell was that?" Doug enquired once they had caught up with the choir on the front steps of the large building.

"Your competition." Miranda said as she brushed by and pulled Andy in the direction of the parking garage without another word.

The brunette shrugged her shoulders at her friend and mouthed 'sorry' before facing forward and reaching down to firmly grasp Miranda's hand. The older woman had been the one to initiate physical contact between them in public and who was Andy to let such an opportunity slip?

Once they had settled inside the Porsche, the conductor allowed her shoulder's to slump, and she uttered a heavy sigh.

Andy shifted so that she was leaning sideways against the seat, and she regarded the conductor for a while before raising her arm and gently stroking the soft hairs on Miranda's temple.

"You handled that well, Miranda."

The older woman sniffed.

"You think so?" She studied her nails intently. "Then why do I feel like the ground was pulled from under my feet?"

There was sadness in Miranda's gaze and Andy wondered if it meant that the older woman still had feelings for her former lover. She didn't dare ask, and she tried to quell the bitterness that threatened to rise up her throat.

"To think that I chose someone like _that_ over my babies..."

Miranda faltered and out of reflex Andy reached for her hand, pulling the cold, shaky fingers to her own lips. As she tenderly pressed her mouth to the older woman's knuckles Miranda looked at her and the brunette watched the calming effect that she seemed to have on the conductor replace sorrow with resolve.

"I think... I will never fully be able to let go of the guilt I feel, and the mistakes I made," the older woman whispered, regret lacing her voice.

"That's okay, Miranda. I will always be here to remind you of a bright future," Andy breathed against Miranda's hand.

They continued to gaze at each other, the parking spaces around them slowly emptying, until Miranda gently stroked her index finger over the younger woman's lips and smiled.

"Let's go home."

* * *

"Moooom! Can I stay over at Jen's?"

Miranda closed the door of her apartment and dropped the key in the wooden bowl on the dresser.

"Again? And it's past ten, you should be in bed soon, Caroline."

The teenager rolled her eyes and threw a desperate look at Andrea.

"Don't look at me, kiddo. I can't help you with that," the brunette said and held her hands up in apology.

The conductor slipped out of her high heels and hung up her coat, before walking into the living room where Caroline sat on the couch, phone in hand.

"Why do you want to stay over at Jen's?" She asked, knowing her daughter wasn't really a child anymore and if she presented a good enough reason, she would allow her to stay over at her friend's apartment. After all it was on the same block.

"We need to set up our chemistry presentation and Mrs. Lark asked us to come in half an hour early. Jen's mom offered to drive us both to school in the morning and said I could stay over to make things easier for you."

Miranda pursed her lips and pondered her options. She could say no and make her daughter unhappy and cause unnecessary troubles in the morning, or she could allow it, enabling a lazy morning with Andrea and most importantly an entire night alone with her love.

"Alright. You may go."

The teenager shrieked in delight and began enthusiastically ranting into the phone.

"But don't forget that we have plans tomorrow afternoon."

"Yes, Mom," Caroline moaned in annoyance.

Miranda couldn't resist rolling her eyes. Although secretly she utterly loved having her daughter around. It had been three weeks since the move and Miranda felt that things were going rather well. Caroline had quickly reconnected with some of her old childhood friends and had adapted to life back in the big city rather well. It had been quite a change to suddenly have a teenager living with her, and although she hadn't been alone that much ever since Andrea had entered her life, sharing a household with a sixteen-year-old posed some challenges.

Luckily Andrea had been around almost every night and her younger age enabled a fast connection with Caroline that had astounded Miranda. But she welcomed it, and now that things were going so well, the conductor knew it was time to ask the brunette to fully move in. She wanted to ask her the following day, which was St. Valentine's, and the three of them had plans to drive out to New Jersey to a park where Miranda had learned how to ice skate as a child.

She smiled as she watched her daughter almost fly back to her room, despite the crutch, to gather her school bag. Her smile widened when lanky arms slid around her middle from behind and Andrea's warm breath caressed the back of her neck.

"I can walk her over, if you want."

"Yes, thank you. That would be very kind."

Andrea seemed to understand how wary she still was about letting Caroline be more independent, and having your mother's younger girlfriend escort you to a friend's house would be marginally less embarrassing than being walked over by your mom. The conductor leaned back into the embrace and sighed. She could rely on Andrea with everything, it seemed.

"Okay, I'm all set, Mom."

"Andrea will walk you, Darling."

She was prepared for Caroline's whining, and had a suitable speech about dark and slippery sidewalks waiting, but the teenager just nodded and smiled.

"Let's go, kiddo."

The brunette gently disentangled herself from Miranda and placed a kiss on the conductor's left shoulder blade though the silk fabric of her blouse.

"I won't be long."

The two put on their shoes and coats, and then slipped through the door, leaving Miranda alone with her thoughts about the day.

Seeing Jacqueline again had been a great shock. Being confronted with her past like that had shaken Miranda. Strangely enough she had also been surprised by the lack of emotion the Frenchwoman herself had stirred in her. Especially now that the conductor knew what real love and affection felt like.

Five years ago she had clung to the feeling of being wanted and physically worshipped as if it were the best she could ever possibly deserve. It had been the first time in her life somebody had treated her like a queen, even if in the end it had turned out to be nothing sincere, nor lasting.

Miranda massaged the back of her neck and patted into her bedroom to get undressed.

The more she thought about the evening, the more elated she began to feel. Compared to the young brunette Jacqueline was just a grey, washed-out old photograph without significance. Andrea was vibrant and alive, she was all colours of the universe, and beyond all the love and physical attraction between them, there was still so much more. A sense of eternal security, a deep friendship, and their twin spirits, swirling around each other in an unbreakable embrace.

As she rolled the stockings down her legs the conductor had to smile. It was quite unbelievable that at nearly fifty she could still find herself a true romantic that harboured ridiculously poetic thoughts for her young love.

Once she had divested herself of all her clothing she moved into the bathroom. As she removed her makeup in front of the mirror she kept gazing into her own eyes, which was something she hadn't been able to do for five long years.

_Today,_ she thought, _I have faced off with my demons. And I have come out stronger._

Her smoky blues sparkled back at her, and with a happy smirk Miranda pushed off the sink and stepped into the shower. She turned on the water and welcomed the slightly scorching spray as it heavily cascaded down on her scalp and skin. With Caroline gone for the night she had hope that her and Andrea would spend all hours until morning with and on each other.

With the teenager sleeping so close-by it had been difficult to fully let go, and for the past three weeks they had opted for quick stop-overs at Andrea's apartment, or hushed moments in the conductor's bed. Tonight they'd be able to take complete leisure in each other and the hot water served as a fine way to warm up her muscles.

The sound of the glass door forced her around and she blinked against the stream of water to watch a gloriously nude Andrea glide into the shower with a sheepish grin on her full lips.

"Honey, I'm home."

The brunette's sweet whisper flowed from Miranda's ears straight to her heart like thick, warm honey, and she reached out to pull the younger woman into a fiery kiss. The conductor swallowed up Andrea's hiss at the contact with the hot water and pressed the journalist's body tightly against her own.

* * *

_Beautiful warmth,_ was all coherent thought left in Andy's head as Miranda's hot, slippery body undulated against her. They stood under the stream of water as one. Two bodies twined together in passion as their tongues rolled together through the steady chorus of their moans. Greedy hands roamed across Andy's back; trimmed nails scratching teasingly without leaving marks. Her own fingers deftly massaged the conductor's butt cheeks, effectively pulling the two of them even closer together in sweet rhythm.

The brunette couldn't help but feel slightly possessive. So far in their relationship it had only been Andy with the potential admirers, but now that she had met Miranda's ex, the journalist wanted to become territorial. She wanted to blow any remaining thoughts of past lovers out of Miranda's memory by giving her the most intense pleasure she had ever experienced. Tonight she would devote solely to the older woman and to bringing her ultimate ecstasy.

"Turn around," she commanded huskily when they had to break their kiss for air.

Miranda raised an eyebrow, but complied, and as soon as her back was turned Andy reached for her hips and pulled the older woman firmly against herself. The soft swells of the conductor's behind collided with Andy's groin in a delightful smack and Miranda chuckled, even as she pushed back and into the contact, briefly wiggling her hips for good measure.

"Hmmm, Mira. You feel heavenly..." Andy groaned into the older woman's shoulder as they swayed together. Her hands sneaked upward and began gently stroking Miranda's breasts. The conductor propped one of her hands flat against the tiled wall to brace herself and then slipped the other one back to grab at Andy's waist, keeping her close. Her head fell back when the brunette began to roll the hardened nipples between her thumb and index fingers, while keeping a slow, but even rhythm with their connected hips.

It was sensual dance under the hot spray, and Andy couldn't refrain from gently suckling at the side of Miranda's throat. As her tongue traced the tension in the older woman's neck muscles she felt the conductor slowly melt in her arms.

"Andrea..."

She could not imagine ever cherishing anyone or anything as she cherished Miranda. The older woman moved against her as if their bodies were created as two separate puzzle pieced that could be joined together in a single image of utter perfection. Andy allowed her hands to leave Miranda's delicate chest and slowly teased her fingers down along the soft stomach.

Curling her right hand around the conductor's hip to hold her steady, Andy then slipped her left fingers lower and over the smoothness of Miranda's upper legs until she brushed against the trimmed, wet curls in between. She used her knee and foot to encourage the older woman to open her legs a bit wider and then, at a leisurely pace she knew would frustrate Miranda, she slipped her left hand down between the conductor's thighs.

Miranda shivered against her and moaned as she rested her head against Andy's shoulder. The brunette revelled in the feeling of the back of the older woman's soft butt pressing rhythmically against her while Miranda's hips tried to surge away from her body and into the tickling fingers between her legs.

Andy used her left shoulder to slowly push the conductor forward until Miranda had to use her second hand to hold her weight against the wall, hanging her head forward and flexing her shoulder blades. As her left index finger tenderly stroked through the already slick folds Andy released her right hand's grip and slowly slid her palm back and over the supple mounds of Miranda's ass, where she cupped the right cheek as gently, yet firmly as she could manage. She tugged it aside, rousing a guttural moan from the conductor, who appeared torn between gyrating her hips forward, to intensify the pressure between the legs, or backward to encourage further stimulation of her perfect butt.

Despite the ever-flowing water Andy felt her mouth go dry as she finally slipped her right hand down and between Miranda's thighs from behind. While her left index finger began to focus on the sensitive bud of nerves at the apex of the conductor's thighs, her right hand slid through Miranda's slick treasure with languid strokes, humming contently with every blissful push of the older woman's hips.

It was surprising that the scorching water had heated her own skin so much that the older woman's hidden places felt cooler to her touch. Andy thought about how it must feel for Miranda to have two sets of hot fingers touch her so intimately, and as the conductor undulated back and into her hands with shaky legs, the brunette knew it was time.

She leaned forward, so that her breasts pressed into the older woman's back and tightened her stretched out arms around Miranda while placing two fingers of her right hand at her opening. The conductor gasped in anticipation and pushed against Andy's palm to urge her on. The brunette entered her with a slow, but determined push that shook Miranda to the core and roused a guttural groan that echoed harshly in the confined space.

The conductor's hips pushed back, driving Andy's fingers as far as they would go, spreading her wide. They moaned in unison, allowing no more then a few millimetres between their skin as Andy set the pace and Miranda followed blindly. The brunette moved her fingers slowly, ignoring the wordless pleading of the older woman to quicken the pace. No, Andy wanted to fill Miranda thoroughly, push against all the right places instead of rushing over half of them. The conductor exhaled heavily with another moan.

"An... drea..."

Andy pressed her upper leg firmly against the back of her right hand, increasing the strength of her thrusts. Miranda used the leverage of her two arms against the wall to push harder onto the brunette and the sweet stretch of her inner walls had both of them trembling.

"More... please..." the older woman hissed, and Andy compliantly added a third finger, revelling in the feel of Miranda's muscles clutching at her. Her left index and middle fingers increased their stroking of the conductor's sensitive bud, circling the little peak as it stiffened.

Miranda was slick, hot and wonderful, and Andy never wanted their intimate dance to end. However when the conductor pushed off the wall, arched her spine and threw back her head in a scream, her muscles going rigid and clasping deliciously around the brunette, Andy knew that this was the most perfect bliss in the universe, and she wanted to hold Miranda in her arms like this forever.

She increased the pressure of her fingers as the older woman shook against her until the spasms slowly subsided and Miranda languidly rolled her hips a few more times with a happy purr. The brunette then removed her left hand and slid it up and around the conductor's stomach to pull her closer and hold her upright as Miranda attempted to catch her breath.

They stood in the embrace for a while, Andy's fingers still tightly burrowed inside the older woman where she felt the rapid pulse pounding against her skin. She pressed fluttery kisses to Miranda's cheek and then gently extracted her digits, bringing her right hand to the conductor's front to lock her within her arms. Not that Miranda would go anywhere. Her entire body seemed to buzz with contentment and she uttered a long, shaky sigh as she held on to the brunette's arms, pulling them more firmly against herself.

"Darling..." Miranda's voice was thick with love.

"Hm-hmm?" Andy tenderly nuzzled the nape of the older woman's neck.

"Move in with me."

Andy's heart felt weak. She had cautiously hoped that Miranda would ask her at some point, but she had also been aware of the necessity to have Caroline settle into her new life first, before imposing yet another change on the teenager. Now that the question hung in the steam filled air, the brunette felt speechless.

Miranda turned in her embrace and leaned her forehead against Andy's, wrapping her arms tightly around the younger woman's shoulders.

"Come live with us, Darling."

With happy tears hidden by the hot water Andy nodded and pulled Miranda into a sweet kiss.

"Yes," she whispered against the conductor's lips. "I would love to."

* * *

Miranda had to grin as she lazily walked down the gravel path with Andrea, arms linked and shoulders pressed tightly together. Despite the many weeks of practice she still occasionally felt sore after a night of extensive lovemaking. But she enjoyed the sensation and fondly remembered the loving attention the brunette had paid to her body the previous night.

They had rolled and writhed together for many delicious hours, right into the early morning of Valentine's Day. It seemed ridiculous that for the first time in her life Miranda actually cared about this overrated Holiday, but then again it was also the first time she was completely in love.

The sun warmed their faces as they strolled down to the lake, Caroline in front of them, skillfully working the crutch over the barren grass. The weight of the ice skates slung over her shoulders gently bumped into Miranda's back with each step and she felt a youthful sense of excitement at the sight of the already bustling, icy surface.

"Caroline, don't slip and fall before we even get there," she called out to her daughter and earned herself a slightly irritated 'Yes, Mooom!'. Andrea, who had a plastic and aluminum folding chair tucked under her elbow, chuckled at the exchange and sweetly squeezed the older woman's arm.

Miranda felt thoroughly happy that the brunette had requested for them to spend Valentine's Day together with Caroline, and now that Andrea had agreed to officially move in with them, it would count as the first outing of their little family.

They arrived at the shore and used a fallen tree as a makeshift bench to slip into their skates. Caroline watched them quietly.

"Mom, do you think next year I'll be able to have my own skates and use them as well?"

Her daughter had made tremendous progress, but the fast jump from wheel chair to free movement with only one crutch, compared to the slow pace of re-training all the subtle muscles and ligaments in her ankles, likely posed a source of frustration for the teenager.

"Yes, Caroline. I actually believe that given enough time, you'll be able to do anything you set your mind to."

She returned the girl's bright smile and then allowed Andrea to pull her up and onto the ice. It had been a long time since she had stood on these iron blades, and for a few seconds she slipped and wobbled in the brunette's steady embrace. Andrea giggled but held her tight until Miranda managed to find her bearings.

"Okay, will you be alright on your own?" The younger woman asked quietly.

The conductor nodded and allowed Andrea to release her hands to grab and unfold the chair and extend her arm to Caroline.

"Alright kiddo, ready for the ride of your life?"

The teenager giggled, dropped her crutch next to their shoes and then grasped the offered hands. Andrea helped her onto the ice and into the chair and the girl clapped her hands together.

"Go, Andy! Go!"

As she watched Andrea push the chair with Caroline skillfully across the ice, the teenager's elated screams opening a path through the other skaters, Miranda's thoughts wandered off to future possibilities. The conductor pictured Andrea with younger kids. Not the twins, but two different siblings, one with chestnut hair and brown eyes, and another with a piercing blue gaze and strawberry blond hair. The cold air she sharply inhaled burned in her lungs, but the thought of having more children with the brunette warmed Miranda from the inside out.

Of course it was too early to be planning anything, let alone mention these things to the brunette. However the idea was there, comfortably waiting at the back of her mind and it didn't scare her, or worry her. The conductor knew that if anyone could ever rouse this kind of longing in her, it would be Andrea. She held on to the happiness that made her chest swell and slowly set across the ice in tentative strides.

Half a circle later, the 'chair express' had caught back up with her, and Andrea now evenly pushed Caroline forward as she adjusted her speed to stay by Miranda's side.

"You're pretty good at this," she told the older woman with a grin and Miranda sniffed and simply answered, "Of course I am."

Her daughter and the brunette laughed and despite her efforts the conductor had to join in.

"Hey there!" A tall boy with raven hair and glasses circled them, before settling into a slow backward slide in front of the trio.

"Kenny! Hi!" Caroline said almost dreamily.

The sudden blush on her daughter's cheeks amused Miranda and she eyed Andrea, who wiggled her eyebrows and pressed her lips together to hide her grin.

Briefly tearing herself from the shy, mutual staring, Caroline turned to the conductor, "Mom, this is Ken, he's in my AP English class."

Then she looked back at the boy and waved a hand in Miranda's direction. "This is my mom and..." pointing behind her, "this is Andy."

"How do you do?" He greeted them with a court bow of his head and a friendly smile.

"What are you doing here? Don't you live in Manhattan?" Caroline asked as they lazily moved across the frozen surface.

"I could ask you the same thing." He grinned. "I'm here with my older brother. We wanted to catch the last ice of the year. They're saying that it will be too warm soon. The lakes in the city are already ice-free and man-made ice rinks just aren't as nice."

"Ah, a man after my heart," Andrea said lightly and grinned as the boy blushed and Caroline sent her an icy glare that made Miranda proud.

"Hey, Caro, would you let me push you around for a bit?"

The conductor rolled her eyes at the word play, but her daughter giggled and motioned for Andrea to step away from the chair.

"Be careful," Miranda called after them as Ken stormed off, pushing a cheering Caroline criss-cross over the lake.

"What a nice young man," the brunette said in an uncharacteristically formal accent, before she succumbed to giggles herself.

Miranda stood still for a moment and watched her daughter have fun with her friend. The image pulled at her heart and she dreaded the day Caroline would be old enough to begin her own life, away from her mother. Until then, she silently promised herself, she would cherish every single day with the girl.

"Hey, Beautiful. Up for spin?" Andrea gazed at her, eyes sparkling full of love and those gorgeous brown locks framing her adorable face, under, what Miranda had recently admitted, was her favourite hideous piece of clothing, the over-sized, floppy hat. She gently brushed away some of the brunette's hair and allowed her fingers to linger at the edge of the green wool.

"I'd be delighted."

She reached for Andrea's hand, threading their fingers tightly together, and they set off with long, serene strides. The sun shone down on them, warming the air and Miranda's heart. She closed her eyes and stopped moving her feet, trusting the younger woman to pull her across the lake. She heard the soft scratching of their blades on the ice, the distant chatter of the other skaters and the occasional happy shriek coming from Caroline a few yards away.

The brunette slowed down and spun Miranda to a stop, forcing the older woman's eyes open.

"Andrea, what are you doing?"

"Holding you," the younger woman said as she pulled Miranda close and allowed them to drift over the ice in subtle circles. Andrea's arms rested gently around the conductor's waist and Miranda pulled her fingers free off the black leather gloves and cupped the brunette's cheeks.

"I love you."

The sun was setting and its warm glow bathed Andrea's hair in fiery highlights. She looked so utterly radiant and beautiful that Miranda nearly forgot to breathe.

"I love you too, Mira." She offered the warmest smile. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

The younger woman spoke so softly that Miranda had to intently stare at her mouth to follow, but it only served to make her want to taste those luscious lips, and she suspected intent on the younger woman's part. Andrea's hands were in her hair and the soft pressure against her scalp urged her forward until she met the journalist in a tender kiss. It was a gentle meeting of pliant flesh, unhurried and a mere flutter, and the older woman sighed at how delicate Andrea was.

Panic suddenly spiked through her veins as in the distance the happy, familiar laughter of her daughter transformed into terrified screams. There was a loud crack and the sound of a plunge and Miranda spun around in horror.

* * *

Andy had often wondered what it would feel like to be so filled with adrenaline in a moment of need, that one's entire body could move as if on its own. To see oneself, and the unbelievable actions that rose from pure instinct, from above, as if the mind and soul had detached from the earthly vessel, to take a step back, because in situations of life and death, the mind, with its knack for rational thinking, might just get in the way. Just like one's soul, the heart, that threatened to vanquish from panic.

Now, as she watched herself speed over the imperfect surface toward the spot where Caroline had fallen in the water, she felt like she was in a movie. Only that now _she_ was the hero who foolishly threw herself in harm's way.

Within seconds, and thanks to her practised fingers, she had pulled off her skates, and pushing the frantic boy out of the way, she jumped right behind the still shrieking girl into the hole in the ice. The water cut her like a thousand knives, shocking her muscles and pulling her mind back into her body. She fought to get her hands under the struggling teenager to help her get a grip on the thin ice sheet around the edge. To her dismay it kept breaking off whenever Caroline grabbed at it, and Andy quickly felt her strength drain away.

Ken, the raven-haired boy, was on all fours, yelling for the girl to reach for his hand. He was too far away, though, and couldn't risk creeping closer or else he would have broken through the briddle ice sheet as well.

By now a small crowd had formed around them and an elderly man said that 911 had been notified. Andy's eyes fell on Miranda who knelt in the middle, and her heart broke at the silent terror in the older woman's pale face. Miranda was in a state of shock and Andy knew she had to get Caroline out of the ice water. The conductor could not lose another daughter to hypothermia.

Her entire body burned from the cold and the journalist realised that the rescue workers might not arrive on time. So with a renewed rush of adrenaline, Andy dove down and focused all her energy on pushing Caroline upward. The girl had stopped moving her legs, the limbs no doubt exhausted from her struggle, which luckily made the quest a lot easier.

Her muscles screamed in agony and Andy accidentally swallowed some of the water. Suddenly the weight in her arms shifted, and as she broke the surface again in a coughing fit, she watched through her spasms as Ken and two other men carefully pulled Caroline to safety and proceeded to carry her ashore.

Relief washed through her and soothed her limbs as she tried to calm her breathing. Suddenly she didn't feel so cold anymore, and she remembered the wonderful sensation of holding Miranda in her arms under the hot shower. Her eyes searched for the older woman, but strands of wet hair obscured her vision and she realised she had lost her hat. While her feet and legs battled to keep her head above the water she listened to the distant sirens and knew that everything would be alright.

The world seemed to slow down around her and the last thing she heard was the wonderful sound of Miranda's voice.

"Andrea...!"

* * *

The steady beep of a heart monitor filled the hospital room, but it, and the sound of Andrea's shallow breathing, weren't enough to assure Miranda, and she had spent the previous two hours staring at the brunette's heaving chest and repeatedly feeling for her pulse.

The younger woman looked so very peaceful in her sleep and the conductor brushed her fingers over Andrea's smooth cheeks.

She had come so close to losing her.

_Too_ close.

Her hands resumed their previous position around the brunette's limp fingers and she closed her eyes to repeatedly reassure herself that everything was alright.

Caroline had suffered a slight shock, but had escaped the icy water - thanks to Andrea - before hypothermia could set in. The girl was now fast asleep in an armchair on the other side of the journalist's bed, curled up in a thick hospital blanket and wearing a gift shop sweat shirt and pants. She had absolutely refused to leave Andrea's side - something Miranda hadn't been able to argue with.

The brunette, on the other hand, had suffered mild hypothermia and complete exhaustion. She was wrapped in foil and a drip of warm fluids hung above the bed. Miranda had initially offered to crawl into the bed with the younger woman, but the doctor had refused, reminding her that it was on his good will alone that her and Caroline were even allowed in the room outside of visiting hours.

Miranda opened her eyes and looked back down on Andrea's angelic features.

She had saved Caroline.

She had put the girl's life over hers, without even pausing to think.

The conductor didn't know whether she should be furious and ecstatic. She tenderly rubbed her thumbs over the younger woman's palm and settled on simply loving her even more than she already did. If that was possible.

She pulled the hand to her lips and kissed each of Andrea's knuckles before bringing her mouth to the delicate wrist and brushing over the soft skin on the brunette's pulse point. She could feel the life humming through the younger woman's strong veins and finally allowed herself to cry.

* * *

Andy felt hot wetness and a soft pressure against her hand, and she slowly opened her eyes to an unfamiliar and dimply lit room. Her throat ached terribly and she felt more tired than she had ever been in her life. She blinked a few times until she could focus on the form of Miranda sitting by her side, quietly weeping into her palm.

The brunette didn't understand why the older woman was crying and she wanted to ask her, but when she tried to speak all that would come out was a croak. Nonetheless it caused Miranda's head to jerk up and blue eyes, swollen from tears, focused fiercely on Andy.

"Darling, you're awake!"

She tried to reply, but again all she could do was rasp a whisper, so she nodded instead.

Miranda got up from the chair she had been sitting in and she bent over Andy to kiss her hard, as if their lives depended on it.

When she pulled away far enough to look into the brunette's eyes, Miranda's voice was laden with emotion.

"Thank you so much... for saving my girl."

A warm palm was placed on Andy's cheek, but then the conductor's eyes became fiery.

"But don't you ever... _ever_ scare me like that again!"

Andy was taken slightly aback by the force of Miranda's glare but after a few seconds the older woman relented and lowered herself over the journalist, hugging her tightly. Her soft, silver hair felt heavenly against Andy's cheek and the younger woman moved her tired arms up to hold the conductor as tight as she could manage.

_"Miranda,"_ she whispered raspily against the older woman's temple and inhaled her sweet scent. They remained in the embrace for several minutes, listening and feeling each other's breaths and heartbeats, until there was some movement to Andy's other side and a sleepy half shriek forced them apart.

"Andy! You woke up!" The girl flung herself at the brunette

Trying to speak the teenager's name only caused her to cough, which burned heavily in her throat.

"Caroline, let her breath!" Miranda chastised her daughter, but as the teenager pulled back, Andy saw the relieved glow in both their faces. She motioned at her throat and the conductor explained.

"Darling, you swallowed some water and the doctors think you may have a bacterial throat infection."

Andy grimaced. That would certainly account for the pain and the loss of her voice. She looked down at the drip in the back of her hand and at the machines around the bed.

_"When..."_ she tried to whisper but then settled on mouthing the rest of the question, hoping that Miranda could read her lips.

"When can you go home?" The conductor asked, and Andy nodded.

"The doctor said today still, but they need to check your temperature first."

Today. When was _today_? The brunette looked around the room for a clock, but Miranda seemed to understand.

"It's nearly nine p.m. on February 14th. You were _only_ asleep for two and a half hours." The conductor elaborated slowly, her face clearly showing that "only" was in no way indicative of her lack of worry.

"Thank you." Caroline said rather sheepishly and Andy focused on the girl and mouthed "You okay?"

The teenager nodded and grabbed the journalist's hand.

"Thank you for saving my life."

Andy couldn't stop tears from falling as she pulled the teenager close for another hug. With a tug at Miranda's hand she pulled the older woman down as well and revelled in the feel of being safe in the embrace of the two most important girls in her life.

With what little strength she could muster she held them tight and despite the pain in her throat she whispered, "I want to go home. Let's go home."

* * *

To be continued...


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Sorry that it took so long... I don't want to bother you with excuses! :P Only one more chapter after this one!

* * *

**Chapter 14**

Miranda quietly slipped out of her coat and took off her shoes before carefully tiptoeing into the living room. She placed her purse on the floor next to the sofa and made sure to not trip over the power cable that bridged the space between the wall outlet and Andrea's laptop.

She looked down upon the younger woman who slumbered peacefully among the many pillows, and the urge to lean down and play _Prince Charming_ to this _Sleeping Beauty_ was strong. However, she knew that Andrea should rest as much as possible, especially because, despite staying at home to rest - on doctor's orders, the brunette had been working on several articles over the past few days.

The dancing _Mirror_ logo of the screen saver illuminated the journalist's features until Miranda closed the screen and set the laptop down on the coffee table. She pulled the blanket back up around Andrea's shoulders and the brunette stirred, mumbling something inaudible, and then rolled on her side to snuggle deeper into the sofa.

The conductor smiled at the familiar tightening in her chest, and she walked over to her favourite armchair, grabbed her stack of sheet music and got comfortable. She loved curling up against the pillows and working on her music while the soft breathing of the younger woman filled the air.

It had been a week since the accident and Andrea's voice had not yet fully recovered, frustrating the journalist to no end. You could not rush recovery, that much Miranda knew. And as much as her heart ached for Andrea, she could not do anything to speed up the healing process. Eight days from now was the preliminary round of the 'Choir Off' and Miranda wasn't sure that the brunette's voice would fully return by then.

She studied the winding thread of notes on the paper, following the lines with her pencil and silently humming the melodies in her head. Quick notes were scribbled below an alto section, and she erased two whole measures from the tenors, rewriting the part with slight alterations. The conductor still wasn't happy with the harmonies, and the feeling that something was missing had been nagging at her for weeks now.

Normally, when she edited or arranged existing music she always knew exactly where to take the melody. But this was different.

"Hey."

Andrea's sleepy croak roused her from the tense concentration. The brunette sat up and rubbed her eyes while a big yawn claimed her jaw. Miranda smiled.

"How long have you been home?" The younger woman asked, her voice raw.

Miranda put aside her work and got up to walk over and sit on the edge of the sofa.

"Not long." Her fingers brushed messy strands of brown from Andrea's face. "I didn't want to wake you."

The younger woman leaned forward and slid her arms around Miranda. Her cheek was warm and soft where it pressed against the skin that was exposed by the older woman's v-neck.

"What time is it?" Andrea mumbled and the conductor gently stroked the brunette's scalp as she turned to look at the wall clock behind them.

"Just past three."

"Hmmm..." the brunette groaned and tightened her grip around Miranda. "I forgot to warm up that soup you got me. And now I'm really hungry."

The conductor smirked. She had been sure that the younger woman would forget lunch.

"That's not what we agreed on." She pulled away and narrowed her eyes at the journalist. "If you want to get your voice back you need to eat your soup, Andrea."

"Yes, Mam." The younger woman was being cheeky, but Miranda loved seeing some of the sparkly mischief returning. The past few days had been rather subdued.

"Alright, I will get your soup. In the meantime you can unwrap your gift."

She reached for her purse and retrieved a small package. Andrea grabbed at it with delight.

"For me? What is it?"

Miranda rolled her eyes. "Well you could continue to gawk at it, but I'd suggest removing the wrapping to find out."

She squirmed away from where Andrea's retaliating fingers tried to tickle her sides. Luckily curiosity won and the younger woman tore at the paper. Fluffy green wool unfolded in her lap and the raspy shriek, which had her sounding more like an old man, caused both of them to giggle.

"Mira... thank you!" Andrea whispered as she pulled the brand new over-sized hat over her head. It looked a lot more stylish than the lumpy, old one - Miranda didn't make a habit of buying anything of inferior quality - but it still caused the younger woman to look like her adorable elf-self again. The conductor adjusted the wool and gazed lovingly at the brunette.

"No. Thank _you_. I won't ever be able to repay you for what you did for me and Caroline."

The journalist tried to say something but Miranda held up her hand.

"I know. I know our relationship isn't about who owes who what, and I don't mean it like that."

She cupped Andrea's cheeks and tenderly stroked the flushed skin with her thumbs.

"I love you, _Andrea_." She caressed the name more than she usually did. "I believe you are my soul mate. We belong together and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

The younger woman smiled and then leaned forward to connect their lips in a kiss that bound them to those words forever. Tongues gently sought each other, stroking with sweet, slow movements that meant to soothe, rather than arouse. Miranda held the brunette close, allowing their chests to heave together and their pulses to mingle to one single, soothing hum. She knew that there was no place she'd ever rather be than in her Andrea's arms.

Suddenly the journalist's stomach growled and pulled them from their tenderness. Andrea blushed, but the conductor had to laugh so heartily that the brunette quickly joined in with a raspy giggle.

"Let me get your food before you starve on me, Little Elf."

With a final peck to Andrea's nose Miranda stood and walked into the kitchen. She warmed up the Smith & Wollensky soup and five minutes later returned with a tray full of food.

"Here you go," she placed it on the younger woman's lap and watched Andrea's eyes go wide with appreciation.

"Oh wow, thank you!"

Miranda had added fresh herbs and a spoonful of cream to the soup, had cut up slices of garlic bread and had finished off with some of Andrea's favourite chocolate pudding.

"You're welcome, Darling." She moved back toward the armchair and picked up her sheet music. "Now eat."

As Andrea carefully slurped the soup and munched on the bread, Miranda slid onto the sofa next to her and pulled the brunette's feet onto her lap, replacing the blanket over them. One hand remaining on Andrea's foot she then resumed going through the music. They sat in silence, only the sounds of the younger woman eating, and the occasional flick of a page or a pencil scribble from Miranda filled the room.

"Watcha doin'?" Andrea asked after a while, dessert spoon hanging from her mouth as she studied the sheets of paper in the conductor's lap.

"Just editing some passages..."

"Hmmm," the brunette finished her pudding and then got up to place the tray on the coffee table. She slithered back on the couch next to Miranda and snuggled under the blanket.

"What is this? I don't recognise this."

The conductor took a deep breath and then sighed.

"Well, you wouldn't."

"Huh?" Andrea lay her head against Miranda's shoulder. "What do you mean?"

Miranda stared at the notes in her hand. She knew she wanted to share _everything_ with Andrea. Every last little piece of her. Even the things that were daunting.

"You wouldn't know it, because... I've never shown it to anyone before."

The younger woman reached out a hand and traced a section of music with her fingers.

"Did you write all this yourself?"

She nodded and Andrea lifted her head from the older woman's shoulder.

"You write your own music?"

Miranda wasn't sure how to talk about the subject.

"Yes. Well, it was something my therapist had suggested... after the girls' accident. He encouraged me to write down my emotions. I'm thinking he meant _words_, though, rather than music." The conductor chuckled nervously.

She turned to face the brunette and was met by dark, sparkly eyes.

"Mira... that's really amazing."

A sad smile stole over the older woman's features.

"Well, I don't know about that. I haven't looked at it in over a year, and I've just recently pulled it out again. You know, to see if I can make anything of it..."

She glanced back down at the papers on her lap.

"But... something is missing. It's solemn and heavy... my state of mind when I wrote it. It's not who I am _now_. It's just not something... that I wish to share with others."

Andrea looked at her intently. "May I look at it?"

Miranda nodded as a knot formed in her stomach. What would the younger woman think if she looked into her past? If she found out how far gone from the real world Miranda had been at that point?

The brunette leaned her head back against the conductor's shoulder and reached for the paper. They remained quiet as Andrea browsed over the lines of music and Miranda tensed, waiting for the verdict.

"Mira... this... wow. It's beautiful," she whispered.

"_Beautiful_?"

Miranda thought back at the time she had written most of it, and she had felt anything but beautiful then.

"Yes. Beautiful. It's raw, vulnerable and so human and... see this section here, the harmonies you're using? With the overlapping fifths? I really want to hear a choir sing that. _Goose bump material!_"

The older woman regarded her enthusiastic young love and she believed her.

"Hmmm... and I think I know what's missing," the brunette smiled proudly.

"Oh don't be ridiculous Andrea. I've been working on it for the past three weeks. How can you possibly see what's wrong with it in mere minutes?" Her frustrations with the music started to get to her.

"That's because you're too close to it. You have a special attachment that prevents you from taking a step back and looking at the whole picture objectively."

That _did_ make sense and Miranda peered at the paper and back at the brunette.

"Well?"

Andrea smiled again, and it was the kind of smile that always reached deeply inside the conductor, warming her heart and filling her chest with happiness.

"Hope."

"I beg your pardon?"

Warm fingers slid into her palm and the younger woman tenderly brushed her thumb over Miranda's knuckles.

"It's missing _hope_. I understand that you wrote it as a lament, but maybe... you could make it more positive. Let the person you are now reach into the music as well, without erasing the part of you that wrote this in the first place."

Miranda studied the music and then trailed her eyes back to Andrea's. The brunette was completely right. Whereas she recognised the deep sorrow she had been trapped in once, she now had some trouble relating to it, and that obstructed her to finish the pieces.

Andrea knew her so incredibly well it was almost frightening. Well, _almost_. The knowledge that the younger woman was like an extension of her very soul soothed Miranda, and she gathered the papers and placed them on the side table, before turning to the journalist and gently cupping her cheeks.

"Darling. What would I do without you?"

She placed a lingering kiss on Andrea's lips and gently combed her fingers through the younger woman's hair.

"Now, I need to go pick up Caroline from school. Will you be alright?"

"Yeah. I'll take a shower and get dressed. I want to come to rehearsal tonight."

"Andrea, you should let your voice rest, or else there is no chance you'll sing next week."

The younger woman blushed and looked down.

"I wasn't gonna sing. I just wanted to come watch... and be around you."

"Awww..." Miranda didn't know where that sound had even come from, but she utterly enjoyed the new wave of deep crimson that crawled onto Andrea's cheeks. "Come here, you."

She pulled the younger woman into her arms and fell back against the sofa, hugging Andrea tightly.

* * *

Andy sat glued to her chair in the first row as Miranda guided the choir through the last song of the day. They had practiced both the set-up for the preliminary round as well as for the potential final. The conductor had insisted that they'd rehearse all the songs equally, and although Andy wasn't on the stage with the rest of them, it still gave her a chance to pick up on all the subtle instructions the conductor gave.

If she was lucky her voice would fully return before next week, but Miranda had forced her to promise that, if it wasn't one hundred percent, Andy would sit out the preliminary round and focus solely on the final. Well, _if_ they made it to the final. Judging by the way rehearsal was going, it seemed to actually be a real possibility, even now that both main sopranos weren't participating.

Emily had not shown up to any more sessions since the concert of the Bulgarian choir. Andy was surprised that the redhead had given up so quickly, and it felt a bit weird to her that if she were to sing again soon, she'd stand on stage without Emily's voice joining hers. Despite their differences they had sounded great together.

At least Nate had come back and he had behaved well enough so far. He actually seemed a bit driven and had not made a single lame joke the entire evening.

"Alright. That's all for today," Miranda dismissed the choir. "You two," she pointed at the two remaining sopranos, "Stay. We'll go over your sections again."

Andy smiled as her eyes followed the conductor's swaying hips across the stage and toward the piano, while the rest of the choir trickled out of the auditorium.

"Hey, Sweetie," Doug said from beside her.

She got up to hug her friend and smiled sheepishly at Lily and Nate who waited behind him.

"Hi guys. You sounded great! Next week will be a piece of cake!"

Lily leaned over for a hug and Nate offered one of his goofy grins.

"How's your voice?" Doug asked, studying the brunette thoughtfully.

"Well, beside the fact that I sound like my grandfather, you mean?" She chuckled hoarsely and then shrugged. "It's getting better, and Miranda is a great nurse."

When Doug raised his eyebrows Andy felt her cheeks burn and she faked a cough.

"Ahem, well, you know. She knows everything about vocal chords... and stuff. And she's making sure I drink my tea and eat my soup..."

Her face was glowing now and she tried to look anywhere but at her friends. Doug's Cheshire grin wasn't helping either.

"So, you live together now?"

It was Nate who had asked, but there was no malice in his voice and Andy looked up at her friend and nodded.

"That's good. I'm very happy for you, Andy."

Coming from the scruffy young man that meant a lot and the brunette moved in to hug him as well.

"Thank you, Nate."

When she pulled away she ruffled through his dark curls and smiled.

"I'm glad you're back. I missed you."

"Yeah well," Nate looked slightly embarrassed. "I did a lot of thinking... and I realised a few things."

He reached down and wrapped his hand around Lily's and the two of them looked at each other with silly little grins. Andy caught on quickly and immediately felt a mixture of relief and happiness for her two friends.

"I'm glad," she said quietly but with conviction, making sure they both understood that she fully supported them.

"Hey Sweetie," Doug placed a warm palm on Andy's shoulder. "We haven't gone out in a while, and your lady love appears to be busy training your replacements..." He wiggled his fingers in the direction of the stage where Miranda was talking with the sopranos. "So, how about drinks?"

Andy wasn't supposed to drink alcohol in order for her voice to recover quicker and her displeasure showed on her face.

"Hot tea then?"

She had to admit she did truly miss hanging out with her friends. The past week had been rather depressing and although she had spent most of it in Miranda's lovely arms, the fact that she felt like a useless burden, unable to sing or make love properly, had dragged her down. Of course she was grateful for how wonderfully the conductor had taken care of her, and Andy knew that despite the throat infection, she'd save Caroline by jumping into the freezing water over and over again. Still, she wondered if maybe a night out with Lily, Doug and Nate would cheer her up.

"Alright, hold on. Let me ask Miranda."

She brushed past her friends when Lily cheekily murmured, "So whipped."

"And _so_ loving it," Andy whispered back before she could stop herself, and her friends burst into giggles that drew the conductor's attention just in time as Andy reached the edge of the stage.

"Hey," she gestured for Miranda to come closer and although she had sort of expected it, the fact that the conductor actually interrupted her talk with the two other women and sauntered toward her, still pleasantly surprised Andy. Her chest burned with longing when Miranda elegantly squatted down in her tight, grey pencil skirt and leaned closer.

"Do you want to go out with your friends?" The older woman said quietly, affection radiating from her face like heat from the warm sun on a May afternoon. Andy swooned a little and barely managed a nod.

"Go have fun, Darling. It will do you good," Miranda said as she realigned some strands of the younger woman's fringe. "I will see you at home."

_At home._ The thought burned through Andy like _Tiger Balm_; fresh and warm and soothing. She nodded and tried to relay all her love for Miranda through her gaze before reluctantly backing away from the stage and joining her friends.

"Wow." Lily whispered. "That was intense, girl."

"Huh?" Andy glanced at her friend in puzzlement while grabbing her coat and bag.

"The love between you two. It was, like... brightening up the whole room," her friend explained with accompanying hand gestures.

It caused the brunette to blush. "Oh."

She hurried ahead of the trio, only to turn around at the door and wave at Miranda who had waited and wiggled her fingers back at her.

"Seriously, you two are adorable," Doug whispered and poked Andy playfully in the side.

The journalist hurried toward the elevator and whined, "You guys can't tease me like that when I'm not supposed to drink any hard liquor!"

"Andy!" Lily grabbed at her shoulders so suddenly that the brunette had trouble deciphering whether she was serious or not. "Don't tell me the Dragon Lady knocked you up!"

The two men burst out laughing and Andy felt her face burn the colour of sun-ripe tomatoes.

"Lily!"

"Awww, I can just picture little half human, half dragon babies flying around your head, annoying the heck out of you by singeing your hair," Doug chimed in and despite being thoroughly embarrassed, Andy couldn't help the smile that spread across her face at the implied image.

* * *

Miranda looked up from the morning paper and smiled at the two sleepy heads that padded into the kitchen, no doubt lured by the smell of food.

"Morning," Andrea mumbled sweetly into her ear as she leaned down and hugged her from behind. Caroline sunk into one of the chairs and eyed the neatly arranged breakfast table skeptically.

"Uhm... Mom. Did you cook?"

The conductor raised an eyebrow and lifted her chin in challenge.

"And why does that deserve a such a face of disdain, my Darling?"

Andrea sat down with a giggle and pulled a pancake from the towering stack in the centre of the table and onto her plate.

"I trust you, Mira." Her beautiful lips broke into a cheery smile. "And this smells delicious, so it can't be too bad."

The conductor couldn't help grinning back at the happy brunette. The night out with her friends hand certainly done her good. Even her appetite seemed to have made its return, and Miranda watched as her love drowned her plate in maple syrup and butter, and then greedily dug into the food.

"Hmmm, delicious!"

"Love is blind..." Caroline mumbled, but there was less scepticism in her face when she eyed the stack of pancakes again.

"Caroline, I'm not trying to poison you." Miranda sniffed in mild exasperation. "I asked Xavier for the recipe, and I found that cooking can be easy and... _fun_," she allowed the word to linger above the kitchen table for a while, "when one has proper instructions."

"Hmmm... kiddo, you're totally missing out!" Andrea murmured around a cheek full of food and the conductor's heart ached at the enthusiasm in the brunette's chews.

"You seem to feel a lot better, Andrea."

The younger woman looked up and smiled.

"Yes, I am. Maybe my voice will recover on time... and maybe it won't." The journalist took a sip from the freshly brewed coffee. She briefly closed her eyes in bliss at the hot brew and then set the cup back down to intently gaze at Miranda.

"My friends made me realise that I'm not really letting you down if I can't sing next week."

The older woman sat up at the revelation and felt a pang of guilt. Had she made Andrea feel like getting a throat infection was somehow her fault, or that Miranda depended on her solely for her voice?

"Oh, Miranda, please don't think that I believe you can't do this without me," the brunette quickly reached for the conductor's hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. "I know you are more than capable of accomplishing _anything_."

Their mutual gaze spoke of more than just music, and both of their cheeks took on a rosy tint, which forced Andrea to divert her eyes and intently study the pancakes on her plate.

"I just... I wanted to help you kick some _Frenchwoman ass_."

Suddenly the door bell rang and Miranda was pulled from adoring the sheepish glow on Andrea's face. She stood from her chair and leaned down to place a sweet kiss on the top of the younger woman's head.

"Thank you, Darling. You help already by simply being you."

She stroked the nape of the brunette's neck and then turned to leave the kitchen. "I'll be right back."

Of course Miranda would have never admitted it, but there was a definite spring in her step as she walked to open the front door.

"Ah, Nigel."

The pianist smirked and gave a court nod. "Good morning, Miranda."

The conductor raised an eyebrow at Douglas, who looked a little lost by Nigel's side, but the happiness that had nestled itself inside her chest betrayed her cool demeanor and she allowed a small grin when she greeted the tenor.

"Douglas."

"Morning, Miranda," he replied in a friendly tone.

The older woman preferred him to all other of Andrea's friends. He was polite and had good fashion sense, and the brunette had often found him a source of helpful advice and compassion.

"How is Andy this morning?"

Miranda moved backward to fully open the door and inclined her head in the direction of the kitchen.

"Why don't you go and ask her yourself?"

Douglas nodded and stepped past her to make his way into the kitchen. Andrea's surprised and gleeful shriek pulled at the conductor's lips and she couldn't hide her smile from Nigel, who offered a knowing smirk of his own.

One of the two men in dark red overalls, who had patiently waited behind Nigel in the apartment building hallway, cleared his throats.

"Uhm, Ma'am. Where do you want us to put this beauty?" He patted the large object hidden under over-sized bubble wrap.

"Yes, my apologies. Come this way."

She stepped aside and led the two movers into the living room.

"Over here, against the wall between the two windows, please."

At that moment Andrea and Caroline came from the kitchen with Douglas and the brunette stood next to Miranda, sliding her arm around the older woman's hips.

"What's going on, Mira?"

Gently patting the arm around her midriff, the conductor suckled on her bottom lip in mischievous anticipation and glanced up at the younger woman.

"I did some online shopping last night."

She turned back to watch as the movers carefully slid the heavy, clunky shape into place and then began to remove the wrapping.

"Mom, is that a piano?" Caroline called excitedly from the her spot on the sofa.

Miranda knew she didn't really need to answer since the instrument was unpacked quickly, and she pulled Andrea with her across the room, and reached out to touch the lacquered wood.

"I asked Nigel to look at it and make sure it is in perfect state before they shipped it here."

The thought of finally having a piano back in her home, after the girls' father had forced her to part with her old one more than a decade ago, was bright and exciting. It gave shape to the idea that had slowly been forming in her mind over the past few days, and Miranda lifted the shiny lid to study the black and white keys.

"It looks great, Mira," Andrea said softly and the conductor gaze up into the brunette's warm smile. Of course the younger woman would know right away that this meant more to her than simply acquiring a new instrument.

She gently squeezed Andrea's hand and then turned to one of the movers who held out a clipboard and pen.

"If you could sign here please, Ma'am."

The conductor scribbled down her signature and the movers gave a final nod and then left. Caroline had hobbled over and was now carefully running her fingers over the keys and Douglas and Nigel carried over the accompanying piano bench.

"You do realise that we're all waiting for a little performance now...," Nigel said teasingly and with another look at Andrea's adoring face and Caroline's excited grin, the older woman regally glided onto the leather-cushioned bench and gave Nigel a stare that said 'challenge accepted.'

Her memory was mostly average, but when it came to music Miranda could remember whole piano suites down to the very last note. Melodies tended to float through her as whole stories and complete images, and she had always been exceptionally good at performing the longest pieces by heart.

While her small audience took their seats Miranda stretched her fingers and tenderly stroked the shiny, wooden keys. She had played occasionally at her parents' house, and a few times during choir practice, but allowing this instrument back into her own home was special, and it posed one of the final steps of fully being true to herself, without restraints.

No longer held back by a bitter spouse, guilt or painful circumstances, she took a final, liberating breath and began to play the first notes of Debussy's "Claire De Lune".

* * *

It was Saturday March 1st - day of the preliminary rounds - and Andy found herself seated in the main auditorium of Carnegie Hall next to Caroline and Miranda's parents. To her utter frustration her voice was still not one hundred percent, and although it had taken a lot of willpower and had nearly caused her and Miranda's first fight, she had finally succumbed to her fate of sitting this round of the competition out, in favour of fully shining in the finals.

The hall was slowly filling with people and the brunette looked around the beautiful venue in hopes of catching a glimpse of her lover.

Miranda had been quite the terror during the last few rehearsals and despite the fact that it had been the conductor who had insisted on Andy not participating, the journalist knew that the older woman would miss her on stage. Not her voice as much as simply the support and reassurance. Miranda would have her back toward the audience and would not be able to make eye contact with the brunette during the entire performance.

A small buzzing in her pocket startled Andy and she pulled out her silenced phone to find a text message from Doug.

_We need you here, Pumpkin. Not sure if it's nerves, but something is up._

"Hey, Caro, I'll need to go see your mom. I'll be back before they go on stage, okay?" Andy whispered to the teenager and then slid from her chair.

The atmosphere in the choir's backstage room was below freezing when Andy slipped through the door. The singers looked beyond nervous and Doug made an exhausted face and nodded in the direction of Miranda who stood by the window, looking out onto the brown bricks of the opposite building. Andy could sense the conductor's tension and she hurried closer.

"Mira..."

The older woman turned and immediately reached for Andy's hand.

"There you are..."

"Uhm... what's going on?"

The younger woman grew concerned. She was sure she knew Miranda rather well by now and it struck her as odd that the conductor would have a case of stage fright after everything she had achieved in the past.

Miranda leaned closer and whispered, "Your dear friend Emily... she's here."

Andy wasn't entirely sure why she should care. So the redhead still wanted to watch... what was the big deal?

The older woman elaborated, "she's here with Jacqueline. She was wearing Sunshine Singer robes."

It slowly dawned on Andy and she gazed at Miranda, trying to judge how bad the situation could potentially get. What was the worst that could happen? The conductor looked serious, but she didn't say anything else as the small TV on the wall came to life and showed the opening speech of the presenters, welcoming the choirs and audience to the 2008 New York City Choir Off.

Andy knew that Jacqueline's choir was due first, so she waited, matching the firm clasp of Miranda's hand as they stared up at the screen with the rest of the community centre choir.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our first choir of the evening, The New York Sunshine Singers, led by Jacqueline Follet. Solo performances by Emily Charlton and Christian Thompson."

Applause could be heard and Andy cringed as she saw Emily march on stage in the bright yellow robes. A few of the singers mumbled obscenities at the TV and Lily poked the brunette into the side, raising her eyebrows in question, to which Andy could only reply with a puzzled shrug of her own.

As soon as the bass and tenor singers sang the first notes, the small backstage room grew quiet with shock.

_No, fucking way!_

Andy felt her insides churn at the familiar sound and with panic thundering through her veins she glanced at Miranda. Strangely enough the older woman remained calm, almost as if she had expected this.

"Miranda?" Nigel was the first who dared to speak and the rest of the choir, still rigid in their stunned silence, watched intently as their conductor's lips pursed and Miranda put a hand on her hip.

"Nigel, tell the production team we'll need the tracks on the second CD tonight. And prepare your sheet music accordingly."

The pianist looked confused for a few seconds, before he seemed to understand and then hurried out of the door. Before Andy could fully grasp what was happening, Miranda addressed the choir.

"It seems that our set list was leaked."

Gasps and muttered profanities filled the small room but died down quickly as soon as the conductor raised her hand.

"Do not panic. We will switch to our finals set-up."

Andy watched the stricken face of her fellow singers, and now more than ever, she felt regret at not being able to sing and support her friends, and especially Miranda.

"You are more than prepared. We have rehearsed the final pieces just as thoroughly," the conductor continued.

The brunette's heart pounded violently. From the shock of Emily's betrayal, as much as from the incredibly attractive, self-assured way the older woman was handling the situation. Miranda did not bow down to bullying or cheaters. Andy's face grew warm as she watched the choir set into motion and adopt their own version of the conductor's determination when they adjusted their midnight blue robes and crisp, white stoles. The brunette was confident that they would be able to get their act together in time.

"I can't believe Emily would do such a thing," she mumbled, looking back at the small TV where the redhead was finishing her solo lines for "Kyrie for the Magdalene".

Miranda slid her arm around the younger woman's waist and gave Andy a gentle squeeze.

"Sometimes you can be quite naive, Andrea."

It wasn't said in an angry tone, but rather with a sweetness that sent her heart aflutter, and Andy turned her head to look into the older woman's beautiful, sparkling eyes.

"It is one of the many qualities I adore in you."

The rest of the choir probably already knew about them. They had tried, but had never quite succeeded in being very discrete. However Andy was still pleasantly surprised when Miranda tenderly cupped her cheeks and pulled her into a soft kiss.

"Now go back out, Darling. I can't have you distracting me, and I'm sure my mother will be wondering why my former choir is performing songs from _our_ set list."

Andy smiled and stole another kiss before tapping her finger on the tip of Miranda's nose.

"Go kick some ass, my love."

The older woman chuckled.

"I will."

The Sunshine Singers were in the middle of Saint-Saens' "Ave Verum" when Andy made her way back to the seat, and she noted with a generous amount of glee that this choir didn't do the song justice at all. She leaned over to whisper the new developments to Caroline and Miranda's parents, and the teenager immediately swore revenge on Emily.

"Which one is she? The soprano? Over there, with the red hair?"

Andy had to suppress a giggle at the girl's vigor and she grabbed Caroline's hand to calm her down.

"Don't worry, kiddo. Your mom has everything under control. They're totally going to rock!"

As they listened to the third and final song, Miranda's adaptation of "Scarborough Fair", Andy wondered if the Sunshine Singers could maybe be disqualified for stealing the arrangement. She realised, though, that Miranda would not be satisfied until she actually beat Jacqueline fair and square in the competition. A disqualification would always linger above their heads as a 'not quite win'.

The audience was enthusiastic after the performance and the brunette swallowed hard against her gag reflex at the superior smile on Emily's face. She hoped that the bright lights would blind the redhead and prevent a proper look into the crowd for her to spot Andy.

Soon the sea of yellow-robed singers left the stage and the presenter came back on.

"Next up, "Vocalise" and their conductor Miranda Priestly. Solos sung by Douglas Mancini and Lucia Robredo."

Andy's heart hammered in her chest as she watched Miranda walk regally on stage. Her long, dark blue gown looked incredible as it sparkled in the bright spotlights, hugging the older woman's curves beautifully, and the journalist felt her hands grow clammy with anticipation.

"There's Mom!" Caroline exclaimed in a hushed whisper and Andy had to smile through her nerves.

The choir looked amazing in their robes and there was an air of positive energy around them that reassured her. The brunette was disappointed that she was missing her choir's first ever competition, but she had confidence that they would make it to the finals, where she could stand and sing in their midst.

* * *

A familiar calm settled over Miranda as she stood straight and proud in front of her singers. The welcoming applause from the audience had died down and the expectant silence behind her tickled everything inside her awake. This was what she loved: Bringing music to the people. She realised just how much she had missed it.

Holding her hands at the ready she had the complete attention of the choir.

Her wrists danced downward and as they ascended again the sopranos, and shorty thereafter the tenors, began to sing the first few soft notes from William Byrd's "Sanctus". This classic piece of Renaissance choral music was the perfect opener and Miranda inhaled deeply as the beautiful harmonies flowed around her.

She missed Andrea's voice, but the other singers did a great job. They sang clear and as a tightly-knit group; the extensive rehearsals were definitely paying off. She led them up and down through the song and onto the final, long note, before the crowd behind her broke out in applause and she could read the relief and happiness on her singers' faces.

Miranda couldn't help it, and as uncharacteristic as it was, she smiled at her choir.

Their next song was her own choral arrangement of "Love of my Life" by Queen, and they glided through it perfectly. The harmonies were strong and beautiful and Miranda could almost taste the awe of the audience behind her. She thought of Andrea, and about how the brunette would be experiencing the performance from her seat so far away, and it caused her to move her arms even more expressively, guiding the choir exactly to where she wanted them.

The final song was Vivaldi's "Gloria in excelsis deo". Miranda had hoped to perform this during the final, with a real orchestra, however she was confident that Nigel would do his very best on the grand piano.

He played the intro with the needed vigor and spirit, and Miranda felt the distinct sensation of goose bumps on her neck and shoulders as she anticipated the choir's first line. She poised her fingers, raised her chin and at the right moment, signalled for the men and women to begin.

_"Gloria, Gloria!"_

Perfect.

_"Gloria, Gloria!"_

She allowed the music to wash over and through her. Almost as if in trance, her and the choir worked together, delivering an inspiring rendition of the powerful tune. The intense euphoria of the song swept the conductor away and she felt tears collect on her lashes.

They had given their best possible performance and the crowd rewarded them with overwhelming applause once they had finished. Miranda turned around and as she bowed down with the choir her eyes searched for Andrea. When she found her, the conductor's heart leaped at the sight of an ecstatic Caroline hugging the brunette, and at that very moment Miranda knew that it no longer mattered whether they'd win or not.

She had dared to put her heart out there, both when it came to love and to music, and both times, she had been rewarded with true and utter bliss.

Backstage the men and women cheered and hurried back into their assigned waiting room with wide smiles on their faces. Before she had the chance to follow them, Nigel put his hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed.

"That was pretty spectacular. Just like the old days..."

Miranda regarded him for a while and then squinted her eyes in contemplation.

"No. Better."

He smiled and nodded.

"True."

The conductor patted her friend's hand and turned around, only to suddenly find herself wrapped in strong, slender arms.

"You did it! You were amazing!" Andrea muttered into her ear while hugging her tightly.

The older woman smiled, and buzzing with adrenaline and happiness she lifted Andrea up and swung her around for a full spin, which earned her a delighted squeal from the younger woman and a chuckle from Nigel. Nothing else mattered anymore and Miranda sought out her lover's lips and kissed her deeply.

When they broke apart the brunette snuggled against her and whispered into the crook of her neck.

"I wish I could have been part of it..."

"Darling, you were," Miranda replied, holding Andrea close and inhaling her warm scent. "Right here, the whole time." She placed a palm against her chest and mirrored the younger woman's resulting grin.

They were about to join the rest of the choir in the room to watch the final three performances, when they heard yelling from down the hall.

"Please, I'm sorry, I don't know what happened... they must have changed it."

Jacqueline came stalking around the corner, an agitated Emily at her heels. The Frenchwoman spotted Miranda and after a second of slight hesitation, made her way toward them. The redhead, however, stopped in her tracks and stood rooted to the spot.

"Miranda..." Jacqueline drawled and the conductor felt Andrea's grip tighten around her middle.

"That was... _trés manifique_."

The faux smile on her face made Jacqueline look like a clown, and Miranda had difficulties comprehending what she had ever seen in the woman.

"Jacqueline," she said through the gritted teeth of her own forced smile, hoping the disdain was apparent to both the Frenchwoman and Andrea, "I enjoyed your _little selection of songs_ as well. Great taste."

The other conductor's eyes landed on the brunette by her side and took on a leering glow. However after a few moments Jacqueline just flashed another saccharine smile at Miranda and sauntered off down the hallway.

"Emily?"

Another voice called out and hurried footsteps slowed down as a tall blonde in matching yellow robes caught up with the redhead.

"Ah, there you are. I was worried. Are you alright?"

Miranda recognized the accent and watched as Emily slowly peeled her eyes away from her and Andrea and turned to greet the other woman.

"Yes, I'm good. Let's go."

The blonde reached for Emily's shoulder, but halted when she spotted the other three.

"Miranda! Nigel!" She said with a shy smile as she walked up to them.

"Serena," Nigel greeted her with air kisses and Miranda simply nodded.

The blond Brazilian was one of the few remaining original Sunshine Singers from Miranda's days as their conductor, and the older woman had fond memories of the cheerful, young woman.

"Congratulations, your performance was really good!" Serena said sincerely and then added, "I wasn't aware that you had returned to conducting, Miranda. If I had known..." Rather than end the sentence she just shrugged and smiled shyly.

"Serena, let's go!" Emily whined and the blonde apologetically waved back.

"Well... good luck! I really hope both our choirs get to go through to the finals!" She began to walk back, but turned around one more time. "It was great to see you again." And with that she hurried to the redhead who had not stopped glaring at Miranda and Andrea, and pulled her by the arm back toward their own waiting area.

"Who was _that_?" Andrea mumbled in a voice that swayed between astonishment and jealousy.

"Serena. One of the most beautiful alto voices of New York," Nigel's tone was a bit dreamy. "Too bad she refuses to sing solo. She prefers to stay in the background and dabble more in music theory. You know, I actually thought she'd become a conductor one day, but it appears she's still hiding in the shadows." He rubbed his bald head. "Shame, really."

Miranda felt the brunette tense and she reassuringly smoothed her hand down Andrea's back and across her butt where she allowed it to linger.

"Come on. We're missing the other choirs." She placed a sweet kiss on the younger woman's cheek and then pulled her through the door.

* * *

Andy still couldn't quite believe it. They had made it. They were in the finals. Together with Jacqueline's choir, but it had been an ungraded result where the top two performances had simply been granted passage to the next round, which meant that in one week's time would be the ultimate showdown.

Charles and Marianne had taken Caroline home, and Andy, Miranda and the rest of the choir were celebrating their small victory in a nearby bar. The conductor had arranged for a private room and people were dancing and enjoying a few drinks when Nigel stood and called for everybody's attention.

"I want to say a few words..." he said as he self-consciously rubbed at his chin.

"First of all, a huge thank you to Miranda, and all the time and effort she has put into dragging this choir from the clutches of extinction and helping us soar to new heights. I'm sure I can speak for every single person present when I say, Miranda, you brought out the best in us. Thank you!"

"Hear, hear!" Came a few shouts and Andy looked proudly at her lover who sat next to her in the cozy, little booth and was trying to hide the hints of pink that tinged her perfect cheeks.

"Furthermore, I would like to thank all of you for your hard work, and the discipline of increased rehearsals and extensive vocal training. Thank you for making the past few months special."

He looked at Doug and his eyes were bright an shiny as he raised his glass.

"To all of us!"

A few people clapped, others cheerfully clinked their glasses together, and Andy sighed happily as she snuggled against Miranda. Nobody seemed to care that her and the conductor were obviously an item and a comfortable feeling spread through Andy's body.

She took another sip from her drink and then nuzzled her favourite spot between Miranda's neck and shoulder.

"You okay?"

The older woman offered a weak smile and threaded her fingers through Andy's hair.

"Yes. I'm more than okay. It's just..." She looked lovingly at the younger woman. "What are we going to do with the finals?"

The brunette was slightly confused. "What do you mean?"

"Where am I going to find new sheet music, arrange it to our needs, and have them study it to perfection in just one week?"

Miranda sounded slightly defeated and Andy pulled her into a firm embrace.

"We could..." She wasn't entirely sure she could push this subject, but now was as good a time as any. "I mean... we worked really hard on finishing the twins' lament last week..."

The conductor looked up in alert, but Andy tried to steel her gaze to convey her sincerity.

"I know you said you'd never want to share it with anyone..." She stroked up and down Miranda's back, trying to warm her up to the idea. "But I think it's brilliant, and it is actually quite perfect with the three parts... the right length and everything..."

The older woman pursed her lips and silently regarded the brunette.

"It's pretty much finished now and you said yourself that you were happy with the outcome."

To her relief there was a small nod and Miranda's features softened.

"I'm sure the choir will work extra hard, and if we tell them the background story, they will attempt anything to do it justice."

She tenderly stroked through silver locks and gazed into deep blues with all the love and support she felt for the conductor.

After what felt like hours, Miranda let out a deep sigh and sat up straight.

"Alright."

A heavy rock fell from Andy's heart and she kissed the older woman's cheek enthusiastically.

"Oh it's going to be awesome! We're going to win, and your beautiful music will be heard by thousands of people!"

Miranda narrowed her gaze.

"Don't remind me of reasons why I should change my mind again..."

The younger woman grinned.

"Oh don't worry. I'm sure I can think of ways to persuade you back onto the right track."

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and lured a tiny smile onto Miranda's beautiful lips.

"Hmmm... I might need some of that persuasion right now..."

Andy giggled and leaned closer.

"Let me take care of that then."

And as the party around them grew louder, she pulled the conductor into a wonderful, deep kiss.

* * *

To be continued...


	15. Final Chapter

**A/N:**Sorry for the long delay! I have no real excuse. I hope you guys will forgive me and enjoy the final part!

* * *

**Chapter 15 - Final Chapter**

Miranda had never been a morning person. She had always hated that moment of semi-lucidness, the slight disorientation and the imperfections of mussed hair, hooded eyes and unpleasant breath. Before the twins' accident she had made a habit of rising early and showering away the kinks of the night and indulging in her first cup of coffee before interacting with anyone else.

After that fateful Christmas day five years ago, dawn and the accompanying physical and emotional grogginess had bled into the rest of the day and had turned the concept of morning into something even more unbearable. Facing yet another twenty-four hours after a restless night had been one of the most difficult things about her depression and even after she had begun to slowly get her life back in order, the early hours had still always been a time of day the conductor would have rather skipped.

That was, until Andrea had entered her life.

Now she loved nothing more than waking up to this new symphony of sensation. As soon as Morpheus bade his farewell, she would become aware of the heat of the younger woman's body spooned against her or a limb draped over her abdomen. She would tingle from the delicious mixture of satin sheets against her body, crisp morning air on her face and the delicate softness of Andrea's skin. Nothing filled her with such peace as listening to the brunette's soft snores, and the often lingering scent of their previous night's passion and heavy sleep bathed her in tremendous safety and comfort.

The morning of the finals was no exception. Miranda blinked against the diffuse light that filtered through the curtains and languidly stretched, curling her toes, flexing her calves and twisting her hips just a little, to shake off the remaining stiffness of the restful night.

She turned her head to gaze at her sleeping lover and reveled in the familiar warmth that flooded through her at the sight of the messy brunette locks that framed Andrea's relaxed features. The younger woman was lying on her stomach, facing Miranda, and had one hand tucked under the pillow beneath her cheek. The conductor reached out and trailed her fingers over Andrea's smooth cheekbones and tenderly brushed away some wayward strands of hair from her forehead.

The journalist usually slept like a rock and whereas waking her was somewhat of an undertaking, Miranda enjoyed it especially on mornings when they could take their time.

Her fingers travelled behind Andrea's ear and began a languid journey down her neck, slipping under the covers and exploring the silken expanse of the younger woman's bare back. The brunette was warm and so inviting that Miranda naturally drifted closer and pressed herself against the length of the delicious body as her hand wandered ever lower.

She brought her lips to a rounded shoulder and smiled against Andrea's skin when her exploratory hand met the supple flesh of the younger woman's butt. She gave a careful squeeze and intently watched the younger woman's long, thick lashes flutter briefly, before Andrea shifted closer, mumbling sleepy nonsense and, with an adorable little sigh, snuggled more firmly against Miranda. The conductor continued to massage her way down to the back of Andrea's thigh and then traced along the smooth dip below the firm derriere, from the outside of the younger woman's leg, all the way to her centre.

"Hmmm..."

Miranda pulled back her head and studied the lazy smile that had settled on Andrea's full lips. She stilled her hand, keeping the backs of her fingers pressed loosely against the damp heat between the brunette's legs and waited. As predicted, the younger woman first raised an eyebrow, and then slowly blinked open her eyes and fixed her misty gaze on Miranda.

"Good morning, my Love," the older woman murmured through a smirk and once again teased the sensitive flesh beneath her knuckles. Andrea replied with a languid backward roll of her hips and then stretched her neck to bridge the distance between them and plant a soft kiss on Miranda's forehead.

"Morning, Mira."

They stared into each other, remembering the intensity of their previous night's lovemaking, and with a gentility that could only stem from their mutual trust and love, the younger woman reached out and dreamily caressed Miranda's lips. Following the movement with her eyes she then smiled shyly and a sudden flush of pink to her cheeks signaled the vivid recollection of what they had experienced together just a few hours ago.

"Sore?" The conductor asked against Andrea's fingertips, smugness and concern equally colouring her hushed voice.

"Only in the good places," the younger woman answered. For emphasis she lifted her hips into Miranda's hand again and rolled her eyes closed with a content sigh.

"I had no idea it could feel that way..." the brunette mumbled self-consciously. "... when technically it was the same as... you know..." she trailed off and seemed to get lost in the sensation of Miranda's fingers fluttering so lightly against her.

"I'm glad you approved," the conductor smirked and softly kissed Andrea's palm.

The younger woman blinked and then looked back at her with a fire that momentarily took Miranda's breath away.

"_Approved?_ God, Mira, that doesn't even begin to cover it!" Her cheeks took on a particularly beautiful shade of red as she continued in a mere whisper. "I absolutely _loved_it. In case you hadn't noticed..." she finished with a smirk.

Shifting closer, Miranda nuzzled the brunette's throat and then planted sweet kisses on her shoulder. "Yes, I kind of noticed. I'm actually quite happy that I didn't use my hands."

At this Andrea offered an inelegant "Huh?".

"Darling, your thighs are so strong, I would have had to conduct with a wrist brace today..." She chuckled at the embarrassed grumble that bubbled up in the younger woman's throat. "Not that I would have minded. I would carry it as a battle scar and trophy of glorious conquests." She shuddered slightly at the blissful memory of Andrea's legs firmly locking around her hips while she had rhythmically thrust so deeply into the younger woman's welcoming core.

She had been a bit hesitant to introduce toys, priding herself in being more than capable of pleasuring her love just on her own. However a conversation a few days ago, where Andrea had claimed that she had never climaxed from plain intercourse with a man, always needing to give herself a hand, and that she must have simply not been _wired that way_, had inspired the conductor to prove to Andrea that it wasn't about the _tool_, but rather about the person who wielded it.

After long, beautiful moments of writhing, tightly locked together in multiple orgasms, the brunette had readily agreed.

Miranda sighed into the dark, silken tresses of her lover's hair and allowed her inquisitive fingers to brush more firmly against the slick heat between Andrea's thighs. "So you're not too sore to..."

"Never!" The younger woman croaked before Miranda could even finish her question and after a beat they both snorted at the abrupt declaration.

"Hmmm... insatiable..." the conductor drawled. "What ever am I going to do with you?"

"_Do unto others as you would have them do unto you..._" the brunette quoted cheekily as she raised her butt one more time and began opening her legs.

Miranda grinned.

"Well, in that case..."

She turned her wrist and carefully drove two fingers deeply into Andrea, eliciting those heavenly whimpers that were quickly becoming her favourite sound in the world.

* * *

To say that Andy was overwhelmed by nerves would probably be an understatement. She was riddled with the kind of high-pitched excitement that made it a challenge to keep down her food; the kind that made her palms sweat and sent her heart into a superficial flutter that didn't seem quite strong enough to allow oxygen to reach into all the important parts of her body.

The journalist found herself pacing in the backstage area where the muffled noise of the gradually filling main hall echoed in her ears with a steady hum that kept her on edge. Andy wasn't even sure why exactly she was so anxious. It wouldn't be the first time she'd sing on stage. There had been the Christmas concert about three months ago, and back then she had been devoid of any signs of stage fright. Granted, she had been preoccupied with her growing attraction and affection for Miranda at the time, but in essence, singing in a church and singing on stage in a sold out Carnegie Hall during the final of a prestigious competition, were the same thing.

Well, actually, they weren't at all.

The brunette wrung her hands and attempted not to think about how huge the audience would be. Only a week ago she had been sitting in one of those seats herself when her choir had managed just fine without her. Then why did it feel like such a daunting challenge to go out on that stage and simple do what she loved so much?

She checked her cell phone for a message from Caroline, who had spent the night back at the Hamptons. The teenager was in charge of finding Andy's parents and make sure they and Miranda's parents got along while sitting together during their daughters' performance. The rest of the choir was still in the prep room where Andy herself had been just a few moments ago, before her friends had more or less kicked her out because she was transferring her nerves over to the other singers.

If only Miranda would get there already. It may have been twenty minutes before the opening speech, and another fifty minutes before _Vocalise_were supposed to be on stage, so there was plenty of time left. However Andy knew she needed the older woman by her side just to be able to calm down and find some peace. She was aware that Miranda had a meeting with Irv to talk about the future of the choir, but she wasn't entirely convinced that, right now, just before the final round of the most important choral competition in New York City, was the best moment.

Her phone vibrated and she quickly opened Caroline's message.

_All grand-parental units safe and accounted for. Will go and find our seats now._

For a few seconds the idea that Miranda's daughter would refer to Andy's parents as _grand-parents_eased most of the worries from the brunette's mind. Of course it was a bit too early for that designation, and it may just have been one of those teenage things, like calling anyone above the age of fifty "granny" or "grandpa", but nonetheless the thought of it warmed Andy's heart. She gazed at the phone with a fond smile on her lips and then proceeded to text back her thanks.

Then finally she heard the faint clacking of heels approaching from down the hallway and a blanket of calm settled over her at the familiar stride. She had her back turned to the direction of the sound, but all her senses were acutely aware of Miranda and she welcomed the warm hands that slipped around her middle and pulled her into a gentle embrace.

"Hello, Darling," the older woman's soft voice curled soothingly around Andy's spine. "Did Nigel kick you out?"

The brunette snorted, but then nodded. "Yeah. I think I was driving them a bit crazy. I don't really know why I'm so nervous."

Miranda tenderly kissed the back of her neck and then stepped around the younger woman, cupping her cheek and gazing lovingly into brown eyes.

"Andrea, it doesn't matter what happens today. We will go onto that stage and give the very best performance we're capable of. Whether we win or lose isn't important."

Andy looked down between them and drew her lips into a halfhearted pout. "But what about Jacqueline... and Emily...? What if _they_win?" She shuddered at the thought of the 'villains' getting away with everything.

Miranda gently tugged at the brunette's chin and forced their eyes to lock again.

"Darling, right now all that matters is us and our music. Nobody else deserves any kind of consideration, especially not traitors or petty thieves. We're not here to _beat_ anyone." She trailed her thumb across Andy's lips. "We're here to _sing_."

There was a vibrant sparkle in the older woman's eyes that brought out the subtle green undertones. It was a mixture of mischief, conviction and a hunger for the challenge to surpass oneself, and all three were drenched in the love and affection Andy found directed only at herself. Nearly frozen in place from the awe at so much life and positive energy coming from Miranda, the brunette managed to reach up and pull the conductor against herself, and she took deep, steadying breaths that allowed her to absorb more of the wonderful woman in her arms.

"I love you," she whispered into silky, silver hair and enjoyed the feel of Miranda's arms tightening around her.

"And I you," the older woman murmured sweetly against her lips.

Andy smiled. "My parents are here. Caroline is getting them to their seats." The conductor nodded in acknowledgement and brushed a strand of hair from the brunette's forehead. For a short moment they simply gazed at each other lovingly and nearly forgot where they were, and why.

Miranda looked radiant and more than ready for her big moment. She might have had plenty of experience leading choirs to victory in this particular competition, however tonight would be the first occasion where an audience heard the conductor's own compositions.

Andy was tremendously proud of the older woman and as she gazed back at her love she thought that Miranda had never looked more beautiful. The dark blue of her sparkling, strapless dress matched the choir's robes and her typical silver forelock had been brushed back to allow a clear, open view of her beautiful face. Sapphire drop earrings completed the ethereal outfit and the brunette made a mental note to have their picture taken before the night was over.

"Oh. By the way, how did things go with Rumpelstiltskin?" She suddenly remembered to ask.

Miranda snorted and pulled up her bare shoulders as she lifted a hand to elegantly cover her mouth and hide her snickering. "_Rumpelstiltskin_?"

The younger woman's timid smile transformed into a lazy grin. "Well, yeah... What, you don't like my name for Irv?"

"No, no. It's perfect! _Too_perfect," the conductor chuckled. "You and your brilliant mind." She placed a tiny kiss on Andy's nose, careful not to leave a smudge of her lipstick, and the brunette's chest nearly combusted with affection at the gesture.

"Everything is fine." At the younger woman's raised eyebrow Miranda stepped away and distractedly slid her fingers along the pleats at the front of Andrea's robes. "I'll inform you of the exact details after our performance, but for now you may know that Mr. Ravitz will allow the choir to remain, regardless of today's outcome."

"Oh, that's great news, Mira!" Andy beamed, feeling the last of her earlier tension fall away in relief.

The older woman's gaze tightened in brief contemplation, but then she curled her fingers into the white stole around Andy's neck and used it to pull her in for a loving kiss.

"It is," she whispered sweetly once they had parted again. "We should go back and tell the others before the show starts."

The younger woman nodded and tenderly twined their fingers together, before tugging Miranda toward the prep room.

* * *

Their competition was fierce. The conductor swallowed down the small but persistent lump that had formed in her throat as soon as the first choir had appeared on stage. The 'Harlem Juniors' were exceptionally good. The large group of boys and girls with mostly welfare family backgrounds were singing Johann Sebastian Bach's 'Magnificat' in D.

Magnificently.

Andrea had written two articles about the government funded initiative which had supported music education programs like the Harlem Juniors until its stagnation seven months ago. Miranda had read all of the journalist's research and it had played a big part in her decisions regarding the future. It wasn't just Andrea's compelling writing that had roused the conductor's interest in the musical education of children, particularly youngsters in disadvantaged neighbourhoods. The younger woman's vigorous research and empathic engagement behind the words, which Miranda had been privileged to witness, had also greatly effected the older woman.

The idea that a self-serving elite could take away arts and music from those who would benefit from them the most was puzzling to her, and although she lacked the righteousness-driven political energy Andrea seemed to put forth in her writing, Miranda had become aware of her desire to contribute. Music was supposed to exist for everyone. It certainly existed _in_everyone. The beautiful voices of the boys and girls currently on stage were a testimony to that.

A young tenor and an alto, both about Caroline's age proceeded to give an incredibly emotional rendition of 'Et Misericordia'. Miranda could hear a few, minor technical difficulties, but especially the boy soloist delivered his lines with such beautiful inflection that the conductor had pleasant shivers running down her spine. Talent like that screamed to be cherished and nurtured.

Miranda worried if the current performance would be detrimental to her own choir's singing. 'Vocalise' were ready and waiting for their turn, just to the side of the stage. The conductor gazed at Andrea, who was leaning against a wall and had closed her eyes in appreciation as she listened to the beautiful baroque harmonies. Miranda figured that the journalist probably felt pride and a sense of contentment at seeing that the choir from an after school program she had passionately written about for many months, and had tried to save from extinction, was doing so well.

There was a big difference between a Manhattan community centre choir for working middle class adults who paid their own membership fee and viewed singing as a fun past-time activity, and a choir that not only kept Harlem children off the streets, but also offered them a future in what, as sad as it sounded, was still a world dominated by privileged white families, who could afford to send their sons and daughters to world-renowned conservatories at an early age.

The 'Harlem Juniors' began the final song of Bach's Vespers masterpiece by correctly building up the tension with perfect harmonies; starting with their impressive bass singers, then joined by the tenors, enriching the sound and opening up for the altos and then finally the sopranos, creating a cascade of melody that visibly enthralled the breathless audience. The Carnegie Hall Orchestra, no doubt inspired by the blatant skill of the singers on stage, did their very best with the typically pompous melodies of Bach, rousing everyone in the large auditorium and setting a rather high standard for the evening to come.

Miranda found herself smiling. She had told Andrea the truth earlier, winning or losing truly did not matter to her at this point. It might have been important five years ago, when pushing her then choir to new heights with a strict hand had been her entire life. However, a lot had changed since then.

She took a deep breath while the Harlem Juniors finished into a storm of enthusiastic applause. Briefly looking up at Andrea, who had stepped to her side and gently squeezed her hand, Miranda steeled her mind. This was it. The moment of truth, quite literally.

The short trip up into the spotlight happened more or less in a state of trance and before the older woman had a chance to second guess herself in regards to what she was about to share, Nigel sat up straight behind the grand piano and gave her an encouraging grin.

Exchanging one final, soothing look with Andrea, she poised her hands in the air, demanding her choir's utmost attention. This was her element, standing at the helm, being in command, and although she was about to relent a certain amount of control by having the singers give voice to her emotions about the twins' accident, she felt a sense of calm envelop her and flow through her veins as she signaled to Andrea and Douglas to begin.

Their voices worked so well together as they depicted that peaceful Christmas Night five years ago. Miranda could feel herself be transported back to that moment where she had sleepily padded down the stairs to answer the front door. The rest of the choir joined in to slowly built the apprehension the conductor had felt when the police offers had come into view, and then four different voices split into six to dramatically highlight the moment of realisation.

There was no point in holding back her tears as she guided the choir through what Andrea had named the 'First Act'; the moment everything changed. Seven days ago Miranda had sat down in front of the singers, and with the help of Andrea, had told them about her girls. The story had inspired the men and women right away and no further explanation had been necessary as they had begun daily, vigorous rehearsals of the composition with, at times, very intricate passages. Miranda didn't need to hide anything now. Her tears were simply a logical consequence of opening up her heart to share the music with her choir and with the audience.

Act Two was pretty much a journey of solitary melancholy. The conductor felt glad that she had decided to let Andrea be the voice of her emotions as the brunette sang her solo of the twins' lament. The warm resonance of her vibrato reached deep into the hearts of singers and audience alike, and Miranda knew that their special bond and the younger woman's in-depth knowledge of what Miranda had been through, enhanced every note with the colour of sincere empathy and sorrow. The rigid lock between their gazes kept the conductor grounded, and she knew that without Andrea she would not be able to hold herself together.

As beautiful and perfect as it was, Miranda was glad when the rest of the choir joined in and signaled the progression to the third and final act. The mending. The sutures that closed her wounds. Embracing the warm heart of the person who came to love her unconditionally. Is wasn't exactly the euphoria of a Bach, or the colourful enigma of Vivaldi, but with her love's help Miranda had created a slowly ascending possibility for true and utter happiness, not just in this piece of music, but also in her life.

She blinding smile she received from Andrea after the final note had been sung set her skin tingling with relief and an intense feeling of accomplishment. The applause they received was deafening and it rose up behind her liked a tsunami of sympathy and confirmation. She allowed the praise to wash over her as she turned on the spot and bowed together with her singers. When she straightened back up her eyes browsed over the many faces until she encountered the bouncy vision of Caroline ecstatically clapping her hands together between two sets of immensely pleased looking parents.

She felt elated and indescribably happy, and as soon as they had walked off the stage and into their prep room she grabbed a slightly startled Andrea by the collar of her robes and crashed their lips together.

* * *

Andy knew she was probably glowing like an idiot. Their performance had been spectacular and better than she could have ever imagined. Miranda had been brilliant, and the way she had opened up and had let her heart shine from her very core as she had so elegantly moved her arms and hands to guide them, had made Andy fall in love with her all over again.

Never mind the frantic and fantastic way she was kissing her right now, in full view of the rest of the choir. When their tongues met Andy instinctively, and aided by a rush of adrenaline, cupped the conductor's exquisite backside to pull her closer, until a rather impressed sounding whistle from her left alerted her to the fact that they weren't alone. She sheepishly slid her hands upward and then released the older woman's lips only to break out into a grin so wide she was sure it would tear the corners of her mouth.

Miranda was radiant.

"That was amazing, Mira. You were fantastic," she whispered.

The conductor allowed the most adorable smile Andy had ever seen outside of their bedroom.

"So were you." The older woman then looked up and around the prep room. "All of you." She slowly let go of the brunette and stepped away to address the choir properly.

"You are the best choir a conductor could ever have. I'm incredibly proud of all of you."

Andy stroked the back Miranda's hand and basked in the happy feeling a simple praise from the older woman could have on the singers. They beamed like young children who had accomplished an impossible task and pleasantly surprised their parents.

Doug stepped forward. "We couldn't have done it without you, Miranda. You've taught us so much in such a short time. You showed us how to become vulnerable and let the music touch us, how to work together and how to create something worthwhile." He briefly turned to the rest of the singers before finishing, "You are the best conductor a choir could wish for, Miranda, and with you we will be able to do anything in the future."

The other men and women cheered and clapped their hands in approval of his speech as Doug grinned warmly at the conductor. Andy, however, could feel Miranda tense under her fingers and a tingling sense of panic subdued the ecstatic warmth in the brunette's heart.

"About that..." the conductor began hesitantly. "Earlier, I when I spoke to Irv about the future of the choir..." she looked at Andy and clasped her hand a little tighter. "I also... informed him of my resignation as conductor and choral director at the community centre."

As Andy felt her muscles go rigid in shock at the news, the rest of the choir became engulfed in a low murmur of disbelief. The conductor pressed the brunette's hand to her chest and stroked soothingly over Andy's knuckles, seeming displeased that her love had to hear about her decision at the same time as everyone else.

"I'm taking up a teaching position at a conservatory here in New York, and I'm also going to set up a foundation to help finance the art and music education programs in the less... fortunate neighbourhoods running, now that all governmental aid has been withdrawn."

Andy wasn't sure what to feel. She hadn't even considered the possibility of Miranda no longer being their conductor. Having her around for each rehearsal had become a comfortable constant in her life and having to miss that in the future filled the brunette with a sense of loss. However, the fire in Miranda's eyes as she spoke about her plans, had struck a particular nerve, and Andy couldn't help but think that her own passionate engagement had somehow influenced the older woman's decision making. The idea of Miranda helping children such as the 'Harlem Juniors' was oddly appealing and made Andy feel a little proud.

Something in the older woman's features seemed to plead, and catching herself, Andy softened her eyes and gazed back at her love with warmth and understanding. She nodded and allowed her clasped fingers to brush against the smooth skin on Miranda's chest, and a visible ripple of relief eased the tension from the older woman's shoulders.

"I will stay with you until we have found a suitable replacement," Miranda addressed the rest of the choir again. "This decision has nothing to do with how much I enjoyed teaching you. Rather, it was my reconnection with teaching music that has opened my mind about what musical education truly means to me."

Nigel stepped forward and rested his hands on Miranda's shoulders.

"We understand." He smiled warmly. "You will be missed, but we understand. Don't we, guys?" He turned toward the singers and they nodded and, albeit reluctantly, murmured their agreement.

The conductor allowed another grateful smile and then gazed back at Andy, who still hadn't spoken. The younger woman was a bit weary of how everyone seemed to wait for her to react, but what she had to say to Miranda was private, so she tugged at the older woman's hand and pulled her toward the door. Once back outside in the empty hallway she immediately slipped her arms around Miranda's middle and hugged her tightly. The sense of loss she had felt earlier had vanished when the conductor had explained, however feeling Miranda lean into her and having her love's warm breath soothingly caress the area just below her ear helped the journalist to calm her still racing heart.

"Are you alright?" The conductor queried softly.

Andy replied by tightening her grasp and nodding her head where it rested in the crook between Miranda's throat and shoulder.

"I just..." she mumbled against the older woman's satin skin, "For a moment there I thought I would lose you..."

Miranda's arms firmed their hold around Andy and the conductor whispered, "you silly, silly creature." She placed tender kisses against the brunette's hair and inhaled deeply. "I could never leave you."

"I know," the younger woman hurried to say. "I know that, Mira. And the plans for your future fill me with pride. I will be there to support you all the way." Her grasp slackened a little when she began to feel embarrassed. "I just... I guess I'm so used to having you around with everything that has to do with music these days that the thought of being lead by anyone but you seems... sad. And uninspiring."

"Darling, we will still share all that," Miranda said as she stroked gently through Andy's hair. "And I will make sure someone competent takes the job."

The brunette looked up and the crooked smile she found on the older woman's lips told her that Miranda already had somebody in mind.

"Alright. I trust your judgement," Andy chuckled.

"So, a foundation to help make arts and music education available for disadvantaged children. That's pretty big," the younger woman prodded further.

Miranda's eyes fixated on Andy's lips and she tilted her head and jutted her chin forward in a way that signaled she was about to explain something important.

"Yes. Remember my friend Jacques who owns the patisserie we took your parents to?"

Andy nodded while studying the thoroughly adorable expression on Miranda's face. It showed that the conductor was excited and proud of the plans she had come up with, and although Andy wasn't entirely sure why Miranda hadn't told her earlier, going into greater details and finally sharing everything with her love seemed to truly please the older woman.

"Well, as you know Jacques is a professor at the conservatory and after reading your articles and following our conversations regarding your research, I realised that I wanted to help. I'm no 'Good Samaritan'," Miranda said as she brought her hands together on Andy's upper chest and began fidgeting with her fingers. "I first and foremost wish to teach those who are willing and who have talent. But I agree with you that it should never matter of which social standing somebody is." She looked up and Andy saw love shimmer in her eyes.

"Beside Caroline and you, music is my one passion. I realised over the past months that it is something worth sharing, and that by opening myself to others in that way, my life becomes enriched. So, I had a talk with my old friend and now we are in the process of setting up a special scholarship program, as well as a plan to fund and enhance the local programs that are already in place. That way, those children who excel during the basic music lessons will have a chance to attend the conservatory in the future."

Andy's chest swelled with a plethora of positivity. Pride, relief and endearment filled her heart. The woman in her arms, who only months ago had been broken, withdrawn and barely able to function in social situation without murdering someone with her glares, was now glowing with a hunger for life and an eagerness to make a real difference. It tickled the journalist and activist inside Andy, but most of all it made her understand that this was the one person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

* * *

"M-Miranda?"

The timid voice startled both women out of their embrace. The conductor looked behind them and spotted Emily standing a few feet away, face twisted into an apologetic grimace as she fidgeted with her hands. Serena was by her side, supportive hands on the redhead's tense shoulders and offering a friendly smile.

"What do _you_want?" Andrea spoke rather harshly as she crossed her arms in front of her chest, ready for battle.

"I... uhm..."

The blonde gave her a gentle pat and stepped forward.

"Emily wants to apologize."

Under normal circumstances, Miranda wouldn't have allowed an apology. She would have turned on her heel and ignored whichever imbecile had pissed her off to begin with. However, something in Emily's face, and the way Serena stood in front of the redhead, basically speaking on her behalf, compelled her to at least listen. She placed a calming hand on Andrea's lower arm which had tensed considerably during the recent seconds, and nodded for the Briton to begin.

"I...I didn't know." Emily stammered, looking intently at the tips of her toes.

"Didn't know what?" Andrea spat.

The redhead looked up and the pleading in her gaze seemed genuine, even to Miranda.

"Anything."

The conductor pursed her lips and waited.

"What I did was... wrong, and inexcusable. I betrayed your trust and put the choir in jeopardy..." Emily sniffled and her friend stepped closer to replace her hands on the redhead's shoulders, where she proceeded to rub soothingly.

"I was selfish and acted like a child."

Miranda nodded in agreement.

"I didn't know what Jacqueline was up to when she offered me a spot in the choir and I was too blinded by my own hurt," she blinked back tears, "to think rationally."

Andrea's angry tension was already gone. Miranda knew that the brunette was sometimes quick-tempered, but genuine regret could just as easily make her forgive anyone for nearly anything. The conductor couldn't really blame Emily for having feelings for Andrea. There was something profoundly wrong with a person if they didn't love or at least feel attracted to the beautiful young woman. What had prompted the redhead to run off and leak their set list to the competition, though, still puzzled Miranda.

"How did you end up at my old choir?" she asked, striking down the British woman with a glare set to very nearly kill.

"Uhm... after you ran into her at the Bulgarian concert... I kind of asked her how she knew you. I guess I thought I could dig up some juicy history on you, to make you leave the choir..." The redhead refused to look directly at Andrea. "... and everything could go back to the way it was. Of course Jacqueline didn't say anything, but she clearly saw that I was distraught, so she offered me a solo part in the competition. All I had to do was get her the list of songs for the Choir Off, which of course as your assistant I constantly carried with me."

The conductor squared her shoulders as she thought about how low Jacqueline was willing to go in order to win. Not only had she abandoned her career in opera costume design to become a choral director, but of all choirs in New York, she had chosen the one which had been Miranda's entire life for nearly a decade. Something nagged at the silver-haired woman, but she knew she didn't necessarily want another confrontation with the Frenchwoman to get confirmation for her suspicions.

"After the competition last week Serena told me the truth. She told me everything. About your daughters, Jacqueline, your disappearance from the world of music..." Emily steeled her gaze to directly look at Miranda. "I felt like a right twat. I... I'm truly, truly sorry. I don't think there are words to express how bad I feel about everything..."

The conductor could feel Andrea's expectant gaze on her. The young woman really had a much too soft heart, but then again, that was one of the many qualities Miranda cherished in her.

Miranda regarded the redhead for a while. Forgiveness or kindness didn't come easy to her and she couldn't just forget what Emily had done. On the other hand, Jacqueline had a way to enthrall people and make them act in irrational ways. The Briton had been guided by hurt and anger, and in the end her betrayal hadn't really cost them anything. Had the set list not been leaked, Miranda would never have finished her composition, let alone shared it in public.

"I accept your apology."

The shock in Emily's face showed that she hadn't actually expected that response, and the conductor felt slightly smug.

"Uhm... th-thank you..."

Serena beamed at them. It spoke volumes for her character that for as long as the tension had existed between her new friend and Miranda, she had chosen to remain by Emily's side. Now, that things had been more or less cleared up, she walked over to properly greet the older woman. She pressed her cheek to Miranda's and then pulled back with a radiant smile.

"Miranda, I'm very glad to see you again!" She then turned to Andrea and extended her arm.

"My name is Serena." They shook hands. "Emily and I just quit the Sunshine Singers."

"What?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Both Miranda and Andrea asked simultaneously.

"Well, as you can see we're not on stage right now, but the rest of the choir is." The conductor frowned and the blonde continued to explain. "While you were out there, singing your hearts out, we had an argument with Jacqueline. Or rather, Emily did. On your behalf, actually."

Miranda was impressed and she felt glad that she had decided to give Emily another chance.

"So when Emily said she would quit," the Brazilian walked back and intertwined her fingers with Emily's. "I didn't hesitate to follow."

"Wow," Andrea mumbled and the conductor had to agree. She allowed her lips to quirk in a semi smile and regarded Serena warmly.

"You know, that makes things a lot easier. You and I will need to have a talk when all this is over."

The blonde looked intrigued, but didn't press on. "Okay. Will do."

"Now, we better go back to our choir." Miranda slid her hand down from where it was still clasped around Andrea's arm and linked her fingers with the brunette's. "I would invite you in... but as long as you two still officially count as our competition, I don't think that would be a wise idea."

The other two women nodded, and with a final half-smile, Miranda turned and pulled Andrea back toward the prep room.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are ready to announce the winners."

Andy straightened her spine and tightened her hold on Miranda's hand. It was very cramped just off the stage and they stood together with two other choirs to the left, behind the curtains, and the other three entries, including the Sunshine Singers, were waiting to the right. Despite the fact that according to Nigel Jacqueline's choir had been awful, with a mediocre choice for songs and the noticeable absence of both Emily and Serena, Andy felt apprehensive. She didn't care so much about winning the competition herself, but beating Jacqueline was of utmost importance.

"Third place, and the winner of two-thousand-five-hundred dollars are... _The Manhattan Senior Citizen Project._"

A storm of applause swayed through the hall as the group of pensioned men and women walked happily onto the stage. Andy had enjoyed their well-arranged medley of Beatles songs and clapped in appreciation of a deserved third place. The singers accepted their trophy, and giddy like little children, they scampered off the stage again.

"Second place, and the winner of five-thousand dollars are... _Vocalise._"

It took a few beats for Andy to realise that they were called and she felt herself be swept up by the enthusiastic men and women around her as they poured onto the stage in ecstatic celebration. Within moments a large, tacky trophy was thrust into her hands and she stared out into the sea of the cheering audience in disbelief. A familiar hand pressing into her lower back shook her out of it and her lips broke into a huge smile. She looked up at Miranda and found only warmth.

They bowed and left the stage in a rustle of eager chattering and laughter, but back in their position behind the curtain a sudden weary tension settled over everyone. Winning second place was tremendous and utterly wonderful. However, the fact that Jacqueline's choir had not yet been called, still posed the possibility of the 'Sunshine Singers' walking out with the first prize. That idea was utter nauseating and Andy closed her eyes and crossed her fingers.

"And now... the Champions of the 2008 New York Choir Off, and winners of ten-thousand dollars are... _The Harlem Juniors_!"

Relief and a renewed belief in justice flooded through Andy as the boys and girls brushed past them and ran onto the stage only to be welcomed by a deafening applause. The young tenor who had sung the Bach solo accepted the trophy while his face was a perfect picture of euphoria. A celebration broke out on stage as the youngsters screamed happily and began to dance.

Andy watched the spectacle and leaned her head sideways to rest her temple against Miranda's shoulder. It was all over now. The correct choir had won, Jacqueline would go home empty-handed, and although Miranda would not be around for rehearsal anymore, the journalist felt confident that her and the older woman would share many wonderful moments together in the future, with and without the involvement of music. Life was good.

"I'm so happy," she whispered as Miranda tenderly teased her nails across the nape of Andy's neck.

"Me, too." The conductor replied and placed a soft kiss on top of the brunette's head.

They stood together and watched in silence how all other singers rushed past them and onto the stage to congratulate the winners. For a moment her and Miranda were spectators; two observers who took in the action around them as if it were an intriguing painting. The older woman's warmth and proximity became Andy's anchor and she inhaled deeply, pacifying the anxiety that had grown in her heart over the past weeks.

"Come, Darling. Let's join the celebration," Miranda murmured sweetly against her ear, and hugging the second place trophy against her chest, Andy nodded and followed her love back out onto the stage.

* * *

**Epilogue**

As she neared their building Andy quickened her step. It was a warm and sunny Friday afternoon in June and she had finished her work early in order to get home on time to pack. Miranda and her were about to embark on their first vacation together and it would be Andy's first visit to Europe, so she wanted to make sure she checked, and double-checked everything she wanted to bring.

She nodded to the portier and hurried into the pristine elevator. She had quickly gotten used to the luxury of living in Miranda's apartment, well, now _their_apartment, and for the first time since she had moved away from Cincinnati, she felt a true sense of 'home'.

Unlocking the door she was greeted by the comforting and familiar smell of fresh flowers and the lingering scent of butter pancakes from this morning's breakfast. She smiled as she dropped her keys into the bowl on the dresser, slipped out of her shoes and put down her laptop bag.

Miranda and Caroline wouldn't be home for another two hours and Andy wanted to surprise them with dinner. First, however, she needed to pack. She padded into the master bedroom, and gripped by sudden giddiness at the fact that by this time tomorrow she'd be in Paris, she propelled herself forward and landed stomach first on their bed with a muffled thud.

"Andrea, must you startle me so?" Came an unexpected voice and the brunette jerked up her head in surprise.

"Speak for yourself!" She snorted as she narrowed her eyes at Miranda who regally leaned against the door frame to their walk-in closet. "You're home early."

"So are you," the older woman replied with a crooked smirk as she sauntered over to Andy and sat down next to her on the bed.

"I wanted to get everything ready before you guys came home..."

"Hmmm, so did I," Miranda murmured as she began stroking her palm down Andy's spine and over the swell of her jeans-clad backside.

Andy bent her knees and alternately swung her feet up and down in the air like a seven-year-old.

"So, but Caroline is still at choir practice?" She inquired.

"Yes..." Miranda drawled and moved up and over to straddle Andy and sit on her lower back. Leaning all the way down and hugging herself firmly to the brunette she whispered, "... which gives us about one hour and forty-five minutes."

The younger woman chuckled and raised her hips as well as she could under the other woman's weight. She utterly loved coming home to a playful Miranda. The months since the choir competition had been extremely busy, but also quite fulfilling. It all seemed like a big blur of happiness.

On the Wednesday after the Choir Off Serena and Emily had shown up at choir rehearsal and Miranda had introduced the tall Brazilian as her replacement. The singers had been a bit sceptical of Serena, and especially of Emily at first, but within a few weeks, the exotic blonde had proven more than capable of stepping into Miranda's shoes.

Miranda had started teaching vocal training lessons at the conservatory a month later, and although her new job and setting up the new foundation with Jacques took up a lot of her time, her, Andy and Caroline were nicely settling into their life together as a family.

Caroline had started a little rock band with the raven haired Kenny and three other Dalton students, where she could put her new guitar skills to good use, and since she had thoroughly enjoyed the 'Choir Off' performances she had also joined her school's choir. She could now walk freely without crutches or another person's offered hand, and although she couldn't really run yet, she was continuously making progress with the therapists. In a few days she would go on her first trip without parental guidance, a two week singing trip to Florida with Dalton's Junior choir, although Andy guessed that most of the girl's excitement had to do with the fact that Kenny was going too.

Andy herlself had written another series of articles on the subject of music education, one of which was about Miranda's new project, and her constant delivery of high quality writing had moved her up a few ranks and landed her a permanent spot with the staff at the culture news section of the Mirror.

Things were going so well that sometimes Andy had to take a moment to remind herself she wasn't dreaming, but actually awake, alive and happy.

"I ran into Jacqueline today," Miranda suddenly whispered into her hair.

"Ugh, what did _she_want?" Andy scoffed at the sudden disruption of their blissful little moment.

"Oh nothing, I just saw her in the hallway at work and as soon as she spotted me she turned on her heel and walked the other way," the older woman chuckled.

"Ha! Still afraid, I see. I think it's because she's waiting for the kick in the face that is never going to come."

"What do you mean?" Miranda asked as she rubbed up and down Andy's sides.

"Well, she most likely expects some kind of punishment, or a retaliation, but you're not bothering with any of that and it must be keeping her on edge."

The older woman's chuckle sounded a tad maniacal. "Hmmm, maybe _that_is her punishment."

Andy laughed and enjoyed the way the movement made them bounce together on the mattress. "Ha, you're so evil! I love it!"

"Hmmm... keep that in mind for later..." Miranda purred and gently nibbled on the younger woman's neck.

"You know, it's really rather sad to lack the spine to stay by someone's side when they are going through a horrible tragedy, but then feel so guilty and have the urge to remain close without having to actually apologise that you go and take over that person's old job... hmmm," Andy moaned as the older woman's right hand curled around her hip and slipped under them to inch closer to the zipper of her jeans. "And you know, that day when you saw her again after five years and just blew her off like that, no wonder that she went berserk... hmmm... and stole away Emily and our music... ah... Mira..."

A tongue in her ear and the following seductively husky whisper were robbing her of all remaining coherent thoughts.

"Darling... I do not wish to discuss that woman any longer. So... shut up!"

"Yes, Mira..." Andy half giggled and half moaned as practiced fingers slipped into her pants.

* * *

**The End. ****  
**  
**Final A/N:** You guys, I want to thank you all _SO MUCH_ for sticking with me and this story for so long!  
Thanks so much for your feedback and all the kind words that have kept me going and inspired me to improve with each chapter. I could not have done it without you! Lots of hugs and kisses, and I hope to maybe have you read some of my future stories! :D


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